War of Hearts Read online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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Grunting, she was determined to do it.

But try as she might, she could not get the goddamn bullet.

Frustration got the better of her and she let out a low growl.

“For fuck’s sake”—the door flew open—“let me see the—” Conall slammed to a halt as his eyes drifted down her bare back.

Thea’s stomach pitched, nausea welling inside her as the wolf gobbled up the sight of her in all her messed-up glory.

Conall could hear Thea struggling inside the bathroom and it was pissing him off. His mind hadn’t stopped racing since the car accident.

First there was the guilt of involving innocent civilians in the hunt, and of then having to leave the wee lass and her broken parents behind. But protecting his world, his pack, was the priority, even if it made him feel like the biggest wanker on the planet.

As for Thea …

Conall considered himself a good judge of character but walking through the small German town with Thea by his side, he questioned everything she’d done in the last hour.

Why had she gone back for the little girl in the car and then risked a lot of pain to save the girl’s father?

Why had she shoved Conall out of the way of the spray of silver bullets and taken five shots to the back in the process?

Was it all some grand manipulation to win him to her side?

And even if it was … fuck, he’d never met anyone as tough as this woman.

Hearing her struggle to get the last bullet out pricked at Conall’s guilt. Manipulation or not, she’d saved his life, and it pissed him off she wouldn’t let him help her in return.

Finally, when she let out a low growl of frustration, Conall’s patience died. If she was afraid of him seeing her seminaked, she needed to get over it. They had to get the hell out of this place in case the little girl gave their description to the authorities.

“For fuck’s sake,” he snapped, pushing into the bathroom, “let me see the—” His words cut off at the sight before him.

Thea stood at the small bathroom sink, shirtless, with her arm twisted up her back, a bloody pair of medical scissors fisted in her hand. It wasn’t the seeping, inflamed bullet hole in the middle of her upper back that shocked him into silence.

Conall’s gut twisted as he took in the mass of scars that crisscrossed Thea’s slender back. It looked as though someone had taken a whip to her. Brutally. Many, many times.

Confused, he shook his head, trying to make sense of it. Thea’s healing abilities were second-to-none … What could have caused permanent damage?

He thought of his own scar, created by a wolf’s one weakness.

Silver.

So what was Thea’s weakness?

The black concoction in the syringes came to mind.

The syringes Ashforth had given him.

An unexpected rage began to build in Conall as he lifted his gaze from evidence of abuse on Thea’s back to the horror that darkened her eyes to black. “How did this happen?”

“Now that you’ve barged in without an invitation,” she said, glaring and covering her breasts with one arm while she held out the scissors with another, “you might as well try pulling out the bullet.”

Stunned to silence by her seething anger that dared him to question her further, Conall could only stare. What the fuck was going on here?

“If you aren’t going to help, get the hell out.”

Scowling, Conall took the scissors. “Face forward,” he said gruffly. He dug the small forceps into her back and other than the rigid line of her spine, Thea gave away nothing of her pain. Just when he worried the bullet had moved too deeply inside her, Conall felt it. She made a low sound in her throat as he tried to catch hold of it.

“Sorry, lass, this one is tricky.”

She merely nodded.

Finally, Conall got hold of the misshapen bullet and pulled it out. He watched in awe as the bloody, swollen hole in her back closed over, good as new, as if it had never been there. Their eyes met in the mirror and he held transfixed, watching her pallor brighten to a healthy glow.

What the hell was she?

“I’m naked here.”

Conall glanced down at where she had her arms wrapped around her bare breasts. She covered her nipples well enough, but her arms were too slender to cover much else of their full lushness.

Heat flushed through him and he wrenched his eyes away, dropping the forceps and the bullet in the sink. He gave his hands a quick wash and turned from her.

“I’ll see about transportation.” He strode out, willing the sudden and throbbing need from his body. To do so, he mentally forced his last image of her out of his head and replaced it with that of her scarred back. Just like that, the heat transformed from desire to rage. The vehemence of it took him aback but he couldn’t deny he felt it.


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