When the Wolves Cry (Twin Flames Duet #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

TALA

Towel drying my hair, I watch the tattooed beast appear from the shadows through the bathroom mirror.

The black towel is low on his waist, beads of water dripping from his hair and rolling through his defined muscles and V line. He sets down a small, black box in front of me, and grabs my leave-in conditioner to start spraying it in my hair. “That’s for you,” he smiles lightheartedly.

I pout my bottom lip, watching him mist my hair. “Jax, stop spoiling me,” I whine.

In the most animated way I’ve ever seen from him, he tightens his scowl, subtly recoiling in disbelief. “Spoiling means over -indulging, baby girl. There’s no such thing when it comes to you.”

He is something else.

He’s on a completely different wavelength than what I had gotten accustomed to. What I thought was normal.

While he brushes my hair, I open the box and pull out a thin, silver choker with a charm of crimson in the center. I hold it up and rotate it around, noting the thick fluid moving around inside the small charm.

“Is that blood?” I ask.

“Mine. Yes,” he replies proudly.

He gently takes it from my hands, centering the blood charm on my throat, and clasps it together. A rare gleam sparkles in his eyes as he looks it over in the mirror, and he bends down to press his lips to the mark he freshened up yesterday.

The sparks from the contact have me tilting my head to the side, opening my neck to him. His rough palms slide over my exposed waist, and he presses into me while kissing down the sensitive skin.

I swallow thickly, feeling his hard cock digging into my ass, only his towel and my silk shorts separating our flesh.

“You’ve been marked with my name, my cum, and now my blood. You are mine, TalaAkiraHuxley. What you are wearing is a day collar that signifies that. It’s not like the dog tag that you hang for decoration or some shit. It stays on unless I take it off. Do you understand?”

I have questions. But I’ll save them for after he gets back tonight.

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he drawls, pressing his lips to my jaw. “I have to get dressed.” His words linger on my skin, waiting for the refusal I don’t give.

The heat of his body disappears from mine. Internally, I beg for him to come back. But I watch him walk away, catching the double back he gives me before walking into his bedroom.

At one point, him walking away and leaving me alone gave me my breath back. Now, it feels like he’s taking it with him.

Grabbing my tub of lotion, I walk out of the bathroom and into his rather sad bedroom, sitting down on his bed next to Sirohi.

He doesn’t want him to go either.

His head is tucked in between his paws, beady eyes just watching him get dressed. And now I feel bad for all the time he has spent at my house, knowing the way Sirohi looks at him as he gets ready to leave.

If he wasn’t about to go see terrible shit and be a damn hero, I’d make a comment about him permanently being uninvited from my house unless Sirohi is with him. Instead, I bite my tongue, unscrew the lid off my lotion, and start smearing around the warm scent of pistachio, salted caramel, and vanilla.

While rubbing it into my thigh, my eyes catch on Satan in his giant closet. The light’s filtering out into his dark room, haloing the mundane action of him feeding his belt through the loops of jeans, his wet hair dripping down his black ink.

Watching him load the last crate onto the back of his truck, my nerves begin frying under my skin.

Sweat is percolating in my hairline, and the weight in my chest becomes too uncomfortable.

Four seconds in. Four seconds out.

I breathe in the crisp, nighttime air, letting out a deep breath that clouds the visual of him giving me knowing eyes, stalking back over to Sirohi and I on the concrete steps.

He wraps his arms under mine, lifting me up, and I eagerly hook around his neck, my legs circling his hips, and melt into the inferno of his body heat while he carries me up the remaining steps.

He glides a warm hand down my cold back, the other drawing light circles in between my shoulder blades. “You never know what to expect with this shit, baby. I can’t promise you the stream won’t start with something horrific. But I can promise I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

Raising my head from his shoulder, a love bomb explodes over my heart, and I wrinkle my nose, rubbing the tip lightly over his.

He’s taken aback by it, brows slightly furrowing. But he lets me. And lets the gleam of amusement shine in his eyes.

“Why don’t you have anyone besides Leon helping you?” I ask quietly, hoping it’s not a sore subject.

He opens the front door behind me, the warm lighting washing over his resting scowl as he walks in. “I’d like to have more hands. I actually think Viper would be a great fit. I trained him and the others for Maverick, and he was the only one that stood out to me regarding self-discipline, speed, and strength. But, uh… not everyone cares about dogs, Tala. It’s seen as a lucrative sport.”

I frown at the reminder. “Did you ask him?”

“No,” he answers bluntly, ending the conversation.

Even though I’d like to roll my eyes at his moodiness, I respect him and don’t press any further. I look away from him, attempting to shift my weight to slink down to the kitchen floor. But his hands move to my ass possessively, pulling me right back into him.

Saying nothing, letting his eyes do the salacious talking, he presses his lips to mine with heat. A growl reverberates on my chest, his hands tightening on my ass as his tongue slides across mine.

He tears away, licking his lips and staring at mine like he’s starving for more. “Novocaine,” he whispers, deep voice rumbling with desire.

A throat clears behind me, and my eyes round, realizing that we aren’t alone. Jax doesn’t give a shit though. He never does when he’s caught. Instead of getting shy, his eyes trail over to Leon, darkening with the murderous intent that makes me wet.

“Sorry, man. It’s almost time and to be blunt, you’re making me jealous I don’t have a chick tomackon,” Leon finishes glumly.

My face lights up with the idea of Nadia, but Jax can read my damn mind like an open book, and he shakes his head at me. He bends down, setting me on the stool at the end of his island, all while giving me a scowl of warning.

Knowing there’s no time to dive into his reasoning for not wanting them to hangout, I trill my lips and swivel my ass around, so I don’t roll my eyes and piss him off even more.

Tattooed hands brace the concrete in front of me, and I peer up at the sharp contour that forms under his jawline. His eyes are stitched to the laptop in front of us, waiting for the horrific countdown to be over.

Fixing my attention to the dark website, I rub his arm in support.

Not only for him. But for me as well.

It feels like the air has gone dry, burning my throat with each deep breath that doesn’t alleviate my racing heart. All three of us are locked in on the laptop, trepidation making the dry air weigh heavily through the spaces between us. The sweat returns in my hairline, my palms grow clammy, and my heart drops, watching a live feed wipe out the blackness.

Leon wipes his mouth in anguish. “It’s up,” he mutters, pulling up a side bar that’s only in coding. The keys clack dangerously as his fingers whiz like lightning over them.

I look back to the stream, feeling the immediate burn in my eyes and the whoosh of wind that sends my hair blowing around my shoulders. Glancing back, I just barely see Jax make hell for leather out the door.

He’s so fast. Inhumanely fast. Yet so fucking quiet.

“He’ll get them, mija. He always does,” Leon’s words of assurance hang in the air, keys clacking to fill the thick silence.

A giant knot forms in my throat, returning to the crowd of men who are chanting alongside what I assume to be the pit. Two men are inside, one with a Rottweiler, the other with a Pit Bull, both on heavy looking chains and pinning the other down with eyes that know what’s expected of them.

“Would you like silence? Or would me talking help?” he asks quietly, still smashing the keys like they owe him money.

“You can talk,” I murmur.

I feel his eyes breeze over me, but I’m glued to the third man entering the pit, waving his hands in the air as he shouts whatever the fuck he believes is important.

I still can’t read lips.

“The men on the outside are spectators. They pay an attendance fee and bid on the fight. The two men with the dogs are handlers. They’re the ones that train and abuse their dogs to make them ruthless fighters… all so they can walk away with some cash. The man in the middle is most likely just announcing the dogs, the bids and walk away prize. Sometimes they have an announcer, sometimes they don’t. And sometimes they’ll even have live bait in the middle to get jaws to snap. But most handlers will beat the shit out of their dogs for being impatient. So really, it’s just their sick fucking preference.”

I quickly wipe the spillage from my eyes, swallowing down the thick saliva that’s urging me to vomit. “And Jax kills them all?”

“Si,querida. All of them.”

“And what are you doing?” I ask curiously.

He gives me a light smirk, whipping right back to the screen. “Sometimes the location won’t be disclosed through their chats. So, I’ll ping it for him and watch him fly out the door. But sometimes, like tonight, he’s able to decipher the location just from the walls. So… right now… all the sick fuckers watching at home… I’m frying their shit.” He nods with a self-satisfied grin.

I laugh silently at his own amusement with it, then the chains coming off the dogs make me blanch. I begin twiddling my thumbs anxiously, bouncing my left leg as if it will ease the claws tearing into my chest.

A wet, cold mark blooms on the skin of my shaking thigh. I tear my eyes away from the screen, down to the beady eyes looking up at me, and pet Sirohi’s soft head to resume putting myself through torture.

I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want to let anxiety control me. I want to get stronger and work through it. I want to do something that would make my grandparents proud. This is a huge part of Jax’s life.

Which makes it a part of mine.

I can cower and pretend to be oblivious to what’s in front of me. Or I can train and be beside him to take these assholes down. This is just the first sentence of a new book. Not just any book. The book of my new life.

A new me.

Letting out a calming breath through the small opening of my lips, I continue petting Sirohi, watching the dogs stalk each other down in a circle. Everyone is shouting, cheering this sick “show” on. Hands are fist pumping, faces are red and sweaty—and the Rottweiler lunges.

I wince, resisting the urge to grip Leon’s shirt and shield my eyes. I just stare widely, unable to blink, as the Rottweiler snaps its jaws around the Pit Bull’s neck.

They tornado around, snarling and snapping so viciously it sends slobber flying through the cluster fuck of violence.

“Do you want the volume up?” he asks warily.

No. But I need to get accustomed to the heinous sounds. So, I nod.

He turns the volume up enough for me to hear without it sounding like it’s playing live inside the house. And the sounds of yelping and growling bleed into the chants pouring from the spectators.

Tears well in my eyes. I’m too frozen to do anything about them though. I let them fall as I helplessly watch the Pit Bull’s reddish-brown coat progressively turn more crimson by the moment.

Steady gunshots start ringing through the feed, in tandem with spectators dropping like flies around the pit. So quickly, nobody knows what the hell is going on. Knowing it’s Jax, I can’t fight the urge to latch onto Leon’s arm, undecided on where to look. The dogs are freaking out and trying to get out of the pit, people are attempting to flee, bullet holes flash in between eyebrows—and I realize I’m watching a live mass murder.

I feel nothing for the twisted assholes.

“Ow,” he drones through a disgruntled breath.

I barely hear him over my heart slamming in my ears. Glancing down, I notice my sharp nails digging into his arm and retract them while tuning back into sweet justice. “Sorry,” I whisper.

“It’s okay, mija,” he whispers back, rubbing over his arm where I’m sure there are indents.

At least three dozen people have fallen dead to the ground. I don’t see much besides crumpled limbs and a few that are draped over the wooded pit, puddles of blood forming under the streams that are pouring from their heads, and the two that are face down inside the pit.

Jax flies over the wood, running straight to the injured Pit Bull who’s collapsed to the ground. Throwing his knees to the concrete, he immediately scans over the injuries he can see, then picks him up in a cradle and whistles at the pacing Rottweiler.

His heroism has my heart swelling in my chest. It washes out the nauseating anxiety like a crashing tidal wave.

“Clean up is almost there, man. Good job,” Leon says proudly, and claps so aggressively I flinch.

While standing up, he scans around until he spots whatever device they were using to stream from. I bite the inside of my cheek, so I don’t smile. And find myself getting closer to the screen to see him better.

He shakes his head, saying something that doesn’t pick up, but it gets a laugh from Leon. I watch with bated breath as he gets closer to the camera, resting scowl appearing ruthless, yet seductive, and the twitch in his lip that I want to run my finger over.

“If any of you sick fucks are still watching, you’re next,” he threatens hostilely, then raises a leg and kicks the device down, shattering the camera and disconnecting the feed.

Exhausted from the combustion of emotions, I sit back, realizing I’m still petting Sirohi’s head that’s now in my lap.

“How do you feel?” Leon asks, analyzing my face with warm eyes.

I think for a moment, weighing the numerous scales that are spilling over in my tired mind. Before I open my mouth for possible word vomit, he says, “Yeah, she’s still sitting here. Sirohi is her emotional support.” He listens to Jax’s response, then fishes out the tiny cone shaped earpiece from his ear. Not giving me the option, he brushes my hair behind my ear, gently pushing it down until it feels snug.

The warmness makes me want to cringe. I suck it up, though.

For Jax.

“Hey, baby.” His voice is rich with comfort, embedding into my mind from it being so close.

I bite my lip, smiling anyway. “Hi, Satan.”

“Mmm,” he groans richly. “Don’t start talking dirty to me right now, little wolf. Save that for when I get home.”

My cheeks burn from his salaciousness. It doesn’t help that Leon is intently watching me, making me feel awkward.

“Youdoin’ okay?” Jax asks, a door slamming in the background.

“I’m okay… I like hearing your voice.”

I don’t know where he is, but I know his hunter eyes are thin and hungry. The mental image of it raises my body temperature, and I brush my hair away from my neck, letting it all fall down my back.

“Yeah? You like it in general? Or do you like it when it’s in your ear?” he asks sensually, smooth and deep like whiskey.

Goosebumps roll down my spine, igniting the insistent thrum he causes in between my thighs. “Hmm,” I hum. “Get those dogs checked out. Then, I’ll let you watch the words fall from my lips.”

His frustrated growl rumbles in my ear, vibrating down to my throat. “As much as I want to keep hearing your hot fucking voice in my ear, I’m gonna need you to give the earpiece back to Leon before I walk into the vet with a raging hard-on.

Lightly laughing to myself, I use my nails to pry out the earpiece and hold it out to Leon. He takes it, light rosiness flushing his cheeks, eyes swiftly darting away from me.

Sliding off the stool, I gently pat his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me invade your bubble tonight.”

He looks at me softly, a hint of a grin pulling up his relaxed face. “Mija, you weren’t invading anything. It was nice having someone sit next to me. I still struggle with seeing it, so it was nice not feeling alone.”

I don’t know if he has anyone besides Jax. The thought makes me frown. I cross my fingers in a hug and hold them up, lightening the mood with a little wink.

A beaming smile lights up his face, and he holds finger hugs up, sending them right back my way.