The thought of her lips and strawberry lip gloss vanished as he realised the plane was rounding corners, taxiing to the runway before coming to a stop. The plane launched itself into top speed and within seconds, it seemed, Nick felt himself tilt and they were in the air.
Finally, Nick relaxed. It worked. He hoped the worker was alright. He hated having to hurt someone to get what he wanted but thankfully he was only knocked out for a minute or two.
A sudden thump caused Nick’s head to bounce off the wall. “Ow…ok we won’t call that turbulence. “That’s karma.”
Yet another thump, more violent than the last. That wasn’t what bothered Nick. What bothered him was that he could hear panicked screaming from above: the passengers. Suddenly, Nick was airborne. His back crashed into the ceiling and he was dropped just as unceremoniously. The plane entered into a violent nose dive. He didn’t need his wolf senses to pick up the panic from the passenger seats.
The screams cracked through the bulkhead. This wasn’t turbulence. Nick tried desperately to cling to the wall, but the inertia of the drop pinned him down. The emergency lights flicked on and off allowing Nick to concentrate on something he saw yet couldn’t explain.
Black smoke seeped through the gaps in the main doors, curling and twirling in on itself like tendrils. The tendrils curled backwards like spiders’ legs and latched on to the inner walls, pulling chunks of metal away before reattaching and repeating. An acrid, burning smell reached Nick’s nose, which he saw was coming from the edges of the doors themselves. The smoke was burning through them like acid, and the shakings of the plane were so violent the bulkhead was being squeezed and smashed like it was tin foil.
Nick used all his strength to push himself up, fighting against gravity as the doors to the cargo hold blew apart, and freezing cold air rushed inside, filling the space with the same black smoke.
Nick covered his mouth with his arm, trying not to breathe in the rank, mouldy air. As he looked over his forearm, he lowered it slightly. A shape had formed a few feet in front of him: a shadow figure. A face of smoke, complete with eyes and a mouth, was staring at him. The air grew even more rank and the figure appeared to sneer at him, pleased with its work.
Nick roared and extended his fangs and nails. He didn’t know how he could possibly fight this. But if there was a way, he would try.
An image of Nicole flashed in his mind. The first time she kissed him, really kissed him. He swallowed the memory and leapt high, hand outstretched to swing as hard as possible towards the sinister face smiling at him. Ready for the challenge as the plane hit the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Close Call
Nicole sat forward and swung her feet out of bed, flinging sweat soddened sheets off her. As she moved her head down, more sweat began pouring down her nose. Her dream had caused a fever. Usually her sex dreams involved the night she spent with Nick. What he did to her. She ran through it, over and over. This one was different though it still starred her dead lover. She had imagined him breaking the door down of the room she was in, silver eyes blazing at her. No words were said between them, and Nicole found herself with her back against the wall, his arms hooked behind her knees, plunging himself into her with abandon, their lips barely parting, filling her then backing out before going again. Somewhere, even in sleep, she knew it wasn’t real, yet she had still woken up crying. It took everything for her to not burst into tears again. She was sick of crying. She was sick of seeing him in her head. No, that wasn’t true. She longed for him, but she could do without the constant, feverish reminder about the way he touched her. How right now she wanted his mouth between her legs…
Nicole stood up and deliberately shivered, wriggling her fingers before running them through her hair. She let out a deep breath and remembered what Alicia had said. It was normal to want your Alpha. But she had said something could take the edge off until it wore off. What was it? Showers didn’t help, no matter how cold.
She tried to put it to the side and focus on something much more important than her cravings: her son.
She didn’t know she could love something as much as the tiny body that lay in the wooden cot. She stroked his fist with the tip of her finger, looking into his eyes. Those eyes that both took her breath away and broke her heart. They were Nick’s eyes. The exact same colour.
The baby was the spitting image of his father. “What am I going to call you, little man?” she whispered.
“Anthony is a great name,” came a voice from the doorway.
“Why would I name my son after a piece of steaming shit?”
He stepped into the room and slowly closed the door. The latch closing made Nicole close her eyes just briefly. Don’t panic. Just breathe. “Get out,” she said.
He closed the gap on her and began stroking her hair, speaking softly, as if to himself, “You have no concept about what’s going on do you…”
“Surrounded by and hostage of wolves. What’s there to not understand?” she replied, shaking her head away from his grasp before he gripped a fistful of her hair hard. Pulling her neck back, seething.
“That