LITMIR.BIZ

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do you want?” the zombiefied man spat, wincing in pain as his jaw moved.

      “What, no Magi to help you with the pain? To possess your body so you can be free of your putrid flesh?” Dax snorted. “You don’t deserve to be free of pain. You soulless traitor.” OK, so perhaps breaking every bone in the tomb’s body was a little harsh but these ‘men’, if you could call them that, had played one helluva part in Alison’s kidnapping. They killed and kidnapped, raped and pillaged at every turn and what’s more they had literally sold their souls to the devil.

      “WHERE IS SHE?” Dax roared, leaning in so he was face-to-face with the tuhrned.

      “W-ho…?” he groaned.

      “WHERE is the female wolf YOUR High Lord took three weeks ago?” Dax hissed.

      “I don’t know,” the tomb whispered.

      “WHERE?” Dax positioned himself so that he was pressing his weight on the tomb’s broken body.

      “I don’t know!” The tomb squealed, tears dampening his cheeks. Dax took his weight from the zombie’s body. Frankly he was surprised the High Lord hadn’t taken the tomb over by now. He did after all have the power to possess his minions at any point, it was the reason he bound their souls. Apparently it made it easier to use them as vessels to do his bidding.

      “But I know he liked the feel of her.” The tuhrned’s cruel laughter filled the silence. Anger swept through Dax, the sheer force of it almost knocking him off his feet.

      “WHAT did you say?” he thundered.

      “I SAID, he likes the feel of your female’s body, wolf,” the tomb spat, laughing and spluttering.

      Dax didn’t give him time to catch his breath, just picked the tomb’s broken body from the ground and slammed it into the closest wall. He could barely see past the anger tainting his vision with red, fury rushing through his veins.

      “YOU,” he spat, slamming the bastard’s body back into the ground, “do NOT –” he picked him up by his hair and held him by the throat against his chest “– EVER get to speak about her like that,” Dax roared, tightening his grip on the tomb.

      “She is worth more than you could ever dream, traitor.” He growled the words at the zombie, choking him with everything he had. His fingers pressed into the tuhrned’s throat, sinking into his flesh with ease. The putrid fluid causing its skin to bloat parted beneath his nails as he sliced the skin open, vile fluid and blood trickling across his fingertips…

      “DAX. Hell no!” Leyth shouted, storming in and ripping the tomb free from Dax’s grip. The male’s night-dark hair and powerful body dominated the small, dingy basement. “Get him home.”

      “NO!” Dax protested. “He might know something. I’m damn well questioning him.” He tried to force his voice to sound level, but hatred for that tomb boiled his blood, making his words come out short and vicious.

      “HOME,” Leyth barked, pointing towards the door. “Raught. Take him. I’ll deal with this.”

      Raught stalked forward, putting himself between the two of them.

      “Come on, my friend. Food will do you some good and then you can get back into the field,” he reasoned, but Dax ignored him. Instead he took a slow deliberate step towards the tomb.

      “You will talk. Or I will make you,” he growled at the rotting bastard’s sneer.

      “Seriously Dax…” Raught moved, wrapping a strong arm around Dax’s.

      “What the FUCK?!” Dax roared spinning around, ripping his arm out of Raught’s grip so harshly that the male almost staggered over.

      “Don’t ever fucking touch me.” Dax was on his pack elder in a heartbeat, wrapping a fist around the male’s throat and pointing a finger in his face.

      “Fuck, Raught,” he spat, the heated red of sheer anger filling his vision, soaring through his veins like fire.

      Another heavy set of hands landed on his shoulders, tugging him backwards.

      “HELL NO!” Dax spat, launching himself across the room, eyes so blurred he barely saw who he was swinging at.

      “Don’t fucking touch me,” he roared, burying his fist in the stomach of whoever had grabbed him. Another set of hands grabbed at his arms hauling him backwards.

      “Get the hell off!” Dax caught the wrist of whoever was holding him and thrust them away with enough force to send them clattering into the wall behind.

      A deafening growl assaulted his eardrums making his already tense body ripple in anticipation of the coming fight. Dax did not like to be touched. Not ever.

      Someone moved behind him, something he felt rather than saw, and in less than a second he was crushing the assailant’s windpipe in his fist, the idiot’s body dangling from his death grip. That growl rippled out again and it took a few seconds of doing nothing but breathing for Dax to realise that the deep vicious sound was actually him. Blinking rapidly, his vision cleared, the red haze retreating and sanity returning. This shit with Alison really had him geared up. Everyone knew he didn’t like being touched. They knew that.

      As the world came back into view he could see Raught crushed up against the wall, choking against Dax’s own hand. Leyth and Taevyn, his pack brothers, had a careful grip on each of his shoulders and were desperately trying to pull him off their pack elder. And Dax was just stood there growling like a rogue wolf, attacking members of his own pack.

      “Whoa there, wolf.” Raught, the pack elder, held his hands up, his silver hair swinging over his shoulder as he struggled against Dax’s grip to shove his face into his line of sight.

      “Chill!” he spluttered.

      “Fuck,” Dax spat, quickly loosening his grip on the male.

      “Dax, I am not fighting you on this.” Raught dropped to the ground but caught himself. Squaring his shoulders and gingerly rubbing his raw red throat, Raught carefully stood outside of Dax’s reach.

      “You’re coming with me, like it or not.” His grey eyes locked onto Dax’s, the strength and compassion behind them made him actually want to calm down. Yet Raught’s pity made him feel sick at the same time. Dax handled sympathy about as well as he handled being touched.

      He was a grumpy arsehole. Everyone knew that. Hell, he knew that. But since Alison had been kidnapped he was worse than ever. No one was safe around him. He needed to question these tombs, get some answers, find Alison and return to his almost normal life. And he couldn’t do that from pack land.

      “I’m staying.” He cast a sideways scowl at the tomb on the ground, who was still laughing.

      “Look, mate, you need to go check your systems. If Alison’s chip shows up you do not want to be here and unprepared,” Raught reasoned. Dax could see him treading incredibly carefully around the words he was saying. All of the pack were like that around him. They all treated him like a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment.

      “Come on, Dax. You know Leyth will question him.”

      “NO!” Dax barked.

      “Mate. I’m more than capable of questioning a few tombs,” Leyth assured him.

      Dax didn’t say anything, just started walking towards the rotting zombie.

      “Hell no, mate. I damn well said…”

      “Don’t start with me, Leyth,” Dax snapped as Leyth stepped in front of him, puffing his chest out and curling a tight fist. Dax’s whole body tensed, ready to take his friend and pack mate down if necessary.

      “Males.” Raught carefully stepped between them. “Leyth, you know Tamriel will kick the shit out of both of you if she finds out you’ve been fighting. And Dax. For

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