“Maddox?”
The spirit roared, desperate, so desperate for release. Fight it, he commanded himself. Remain calm. He drew air into his lungs, held it, slowly released it. Killhurtmaim, killhurtmaim. “I will resist. I am not a monster.”
We shall see.…
His nails elongated, itching with that inexorable urge to strike. If he didn’t compose himself, he would soon assault anything and everything within his reach. He would kill, without mercy, without hesitation. He would destroy this home stone by stone, kicking and clawing. Raging. He would destroy everyone inside of it. And he would rather burn in hell for all eternity than do such a thing.
“Maddox?” Ashlyn said again. Her sweet voice drifted to his ears, an entreaty that was part soothing balm, part kindling. “What’s—”
“Silence.” He skimmed her off his shoulder, still holding her tight, and burst through the front door, nearly ripping the wood from its hinges. Angry voices greeted him. Torin, Lucien and Reyes stood in the foyer, arguing.
“You never should have let him leave,” Lucien said. “He becomes an animal, Torin, annihilating—”
“Stop!” Maddox shouted. “Help!”
All three men spun, facing him.
“What’s going on?” Reyes demanded. Seeing Ashlyn, he gaped. Shock settled over his features. “Why have you brought a woman into the house?”
Hearing the commotion, Paris and Aeron raced into the foyer, features taut. When they spotted Maddox, they relaxed. “Finally,” Paris said, clearly relieved. But he, too, spotted Ashlyn. He grinned. “Sweet! A present? For me?”
Maddox bared his teeth. Kill them, Violence beseeched, a seductive whisper now. Kill them.
“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tore from his throat. “Take her and leave. Before it’s too late.”
“Look at him,” Paris said, his relief and amusement gone. “Look at his face.”
“The process has already begun,” Lucien said.
The words spurred Maddox to action. Though he found he didn’t want to release Ashlyn, even in his madness, he tossed her at the group. Lucien caught her effortlessly. The moment her weight settled on her feet, she winced. Must have twisted her ankle on the hill, Maddox realized, concern slipping past bloodlust for a split second.
“Careful of her foot,” he commanded.
Lucien released her to look at her ankle, but Ashlyn scrambled away from him and limped her way back into Maddox’s arms. His concern intensified as his arms wound around her. She was trembling. But a moment later, he stopped caring. A pestilent haze fell over his mind, brutality obliterating every emotion in its path.
“Release me,” he growled, pushing her.
The woman clung to him. “What’s wrong?”
Lucien grabbed her, jerking her backward and locking her in an iron grip. Had she touched Maddox a second longer, he might have clawed her to pieces. As it was, he slammed his hands into the nearest wall.
“Maddox,” she said on a tremulous breath.
“Do not hurt her.” The words were for himself as much as the others. “You,” he grated, pointing to Reyes with a crimson-stained finger. “Bedroom. Now.” He didn’t wait for a response, but pounded up the stairs.
He heard Ashlyn fight for freedom and call, “But I want to stay with you.”
He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He allowed himself a single glance over his shoulder.
When Lucien further tightened his hold on the struggling Ashlyn, his dark hair brushing her shoulders, Maddox’s need for bloodshed strengthened. He almost changed paths, almost sprinted back into the foyer to hack his friend to pieces. Mine, his mind shouted. Mine. I found her. No one but me should be allowed to touch her.
Maddox wasn’t sure whether it was the spirit or himself who thought such a thing, and he didn’t care. He just wanted to kill. Yes, kill. Fury, such fury, exploded through him. He did stop. Did change direction. He was going to slice Lucien in half and coat the floor with his friend’s blood. Destroy, destroy, destroy. Kill.
“He’s going to attack.” Lucien.
“Get her out of here!” Torin.
Lucien dragged Ashlyn from the room. Her panicked cries echoed in Maddox’s ears, which only managed to increase his darkest needs. The image of her pale, lovely face flashed in his mind over and over again, becoming the only thing he saw. She was terrified. Trusted him, wanted him. Her arms had reached for him.
His stomach was a stinging mass of pulsing agony, but he didn’t slow his steps. Any minute, midnight would arrive and he would die—but he was taking everyone here with him. Yes, they must be destroyed.
“Ah, hell,” Aeron muttered. “The demon has taken over completely. We’ll have to subdue him. Lucien, get back in here. Hurry!”
Aeron, Reyes and Paris advanced. With the speed of a single breath, Maddox unsheathed his daggers and launched them. Expecting the attack, all three men ducked and the silver blades soared over them, embedding in the wall. Two seconds later, the men were on top of him and he was lying flat on his back. Fists jabbed into his face, his stomach, his groin. He fought. Roaring, growling, punching.
Knuckles slammed into his jaw, dislocating the bone. A knee jammed into the sensitive flesh between his legs. Still he fought. And as the battle raged, the warriors managed to drag him up the steps and into his bedroom. Maddox thought he heard Ashlyn sobbing, thought he saw her trying to tear the men away from him. He jabbed his fist forward and hit something—a nose. Heard a howl. Experienced satisfaction. Wanted more blood.
“Damn it! Chain him, Reyes, before he breaks somebody else’s fucking nose.”
“He’s too strong. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold him.”
Minutes passed as he fought, maybe an eternity, then cold metal locked around his wrists, his ankles. Maddox bucked and arched, the links cutting into his flesh. “Bastards!” The pain in his stomach was unbearable now, no longer sporadic but constant. “I’ll kill you. I’ll take every one of you to hell with me.”
Reyes stood over him, a dark glaze of determination and regret blanketing his tanned features. Maddox tried to knock him down by raising his knees and kicking, but the chains held. The warrior, too, held steady, withdrawing a long, menacing sword from his side.
“I’m sorry,” Reyes rasped as a clock chimed the hour. And then he stabbed Maddox in the stomach.
The metal sliced all the way to his spine before leaving his body. Instantly blood poured from the wound, wetting his chest and stomach. Bile burned his throat, his nose. He cursed; he bucked.
Reyes stabbed him again. And again.
The pain…the agony… His skin felt scorched. With only those three slices, his bones and organs were already shredded, each tear a point of anguish. Still he fought; still he felt a desperate urge to kill.
A woman screamed. “Stop! You’re killing him!”
When her voice pierced Maddox’s consciousness, his struggles became all the more wild. Ashlyn. His woman from the forest. His. Get to her, had to get to her. Had to kill her—no! Had to save her. Kill…save…the two needs battled for supremacy. He jerked at his chains. The metal shackles dug deeper into his wrists and ankles, but he reared up and kicked. The bed shook with the force of his movements, and both the headboard and footboard bent forward with a whine.
“Why are you doing this?” Ashlyn shouted. “Stop! Don’t hurt him. Ohmygod, stop!”
Reyes