Their Human Mate

Chapter Nineteen

Aalya's POV

When I come to, the air is cold, an icy breath whooshing into my lungs when I inhale. 

I sit up and cough.

And cough.

And cough.

The smoke burns in my throat, my lungs, even though I'm obviously not in the burning building any longer. 

Which begs the question: Where am I?

And why aren't I dead?

I vaguely remember passing out on the cold stone floor, Xander's arm stretched out to me. He was so close. So close.

My raspy breathing doesn't sound too good. Or feel too good, for that matter. 

"Finally." I jump at a horribly familiar voice from behind me. 

I scramble to my feet, spinning around. 

"Well shit. I wouldn't have expected anyone to look so hot after nearly suffocating, but there you stand, getting my dick rock hard." 

No.

Adrian.

Please.

I stumble back a few steps. If Xander didn't save me then my mates must still be in that building and I'm stuck here and they could be-

No. They're too strong for that. They're coming for me, they're coming for me, they're coming for me.

"P-please Adrian, I-I can-t-"

"How many times have I told you to Shut. The hell. Up." He says, stalking over and grabbing me by the hair, spinning me around and pressing my back against his chest. 

He pulls my hair sharply so my head is pressed against his chest, forcing my neck back to look up at him. "My darling little slut. You know you're mine now, yes? That those fucking sons of bitches are dead, yes?"

"N-no-"

"You'll call me sir," He says roughly, grabbing my wrists with his other hand, holding me still. "Now. Say, 'I understand, Sir.'"

"P-plea-"

"Say it," He hisses, pulling my hair tighter, but shoving my neck back to is normal position. 

"She will do no such thing."

I exhale sharply.

Xander's POV

The fucking bastard. 

He holds my angel tight against him, her hair gripped sharply in one hand and wrists held with the other. 

And I want to shift and tear him to pieces, shredding the trees around us, kill, destroy, obliterate. He has no fucking idea what I will do to him, no fucking idea. I will burn this forest, rip his throat out with my teeth and my claws and burn him alive. 

"Don't move," His tone is light, playful even, and the hell raging inside of me freezes over. Axel growls low in his throat from my right.

His mouth is barely a hair's width away from her neck, his wolf fangs poised above her perfect pale skin. Goosebumps rise up on her flesh as his breath whispers across her throat.

"If you move, little puppy wolves, I won't hesitate to mark her." He shifts his hand to a wolf claw, brushing her hair back from her neck with night-black claws. 

And my wolf rages. I'm going to tear him to pieces, burn the town and the forest and the fucking world to rid it of men like him. My brothers and I will run as wolves killing, shredding, tearing.

But. 

His lips brush her skin as he speaks, and the threat of what he could do, how he could hurt her, stills the storm inside me. 

I don't give a shit about what happens to this world. 

She is my world. 

And he's about to take her from me. 

Axel's POV

I don't think. 

I just act.

The tree beside me.

My wolf comes out and my rage, my hunger for her, my killing nature, and I 

tear the

tree

out of

this 

earth

.