Shards of Frost Read online Suzanne Wright (The Mercury Pack #5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Mercury Pack Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
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“Doesn’t mean you can’t come at me one at a time, does it? Come on, you first. Let’s see how well you do. Or are you as much of a pussy as I’m sensing you are?”

Clenching his fists, the leader dropped his chin, angled his body, and shifted one foot slightly in front of the other—it was a fast, fluid move.

Eli was faster.

He ducked the fist that flew at his head and aimed a precise punch to the side of the falcon’s knee joint, instantly dislocating it.

The others gaped at their leader as he collapsed to the pavement, his face creased in agony.

“You sure you want to do this?” Eli asked them.

The leader growled, pointing at Eli. “Get him! Now!” And, of course, they stupidly obeyed.

Eli backed away fast, positioning himself between two cars, forcing the falcons to form a line rather than come at him from different angles. The first lunged at him. With adrenaline surging through his veins, Eli struck hard and fast. Targeted the pressure points. Aimed for the weakest spots. Delivered maximum pain and damage.

The first falcon went down easy, out cold, but the second could sure take a punch. He flew at Eli with devastating kicks and cheap shots. Eli evaded most of them—ducking, dodging, and jumping backwards. Other shots hit him hard.

Flesh burned as it tore open. Wounds stung as his sweat dripped into them. His jaw and ribs throbbed like a bitch. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline dimming the pain, he’d be feeling a whole lot worse.

Eli fought just as dirty as his opponent. Using his arsenal of teeth, claws, fists, palms, knees, elbows, and feet, he delivered bone-fracturing blows, clawed at the falcon’s face through the balaclava, headbutted him hard enough to daze the fucker and split his eye open.

Growls, snarls, curses, and grunts rang through the air, but they were overridden by the car alarms that had started blaring when Eli and the falcon each accidentally banged into the vehicles, denting metal and smashing windows.

It was hard not to be distracted by the feel of his mate’s anger and bone-chilling fear pulsing along their bond. Eli hated that she was experiencing his pain with him, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, Eli kept on fighting hard and mercilessly. The scents of blood, anger, and fear tainted the air, feeding his wolf’s thirst for vengeance.

It was while the second falcon was trying to recover from a punch to the windpipe that the first falcon—having rose from his unconscious state—rushed around the car, trying to come at Eli from behind.

Having expected the move, Eli pivoted on the spot, dodged the punch, grabbed the bastard’s arm, and struck the elbow joint hard. The falcon’s cry of pain faded into a gurgle as Eli stabbed his claws into the asshole’s throat and twisted, severing arteries.

Just as the falcon dropped like a stone, thick arms wrapped around Eli from behind. Son of a bitch. Eli slammed the back of his head into the fucker’s face and heard a telling crack that made his wolf bare his teeth in a feral grin.

The arms that were curled around him dropped. Eli spun. A little dazed, the falcon threw a wild punch that was so slow in coming it might as well have had a postcard on it. Eli blocked it with his arm and punched the bastard in the throat so hard that he doubled over, gasping for air. That was when Eli grabbed the falcon’s head and twisted sharply, snapping his neck.

With a muffled curse, the male holding the phone backed away, hands shaking. Eli stalked toward him, evading the cell that was thrown at his head. Of course, the little shit tried to run.

“What’s the rush?” asked Eli, fisting the falcon’s shirt and dragging him backwards.

The falcon spun to face him and tried striking out with his talons. One swipe of Eli’s claws slit open the bastard’s throat. The male cupped his bleeding neck, eyes wide in disbelief, choking on his own blood, and dropped to his knees.

Satisfied, Eli turned and headed for the leader, who was now ridiculously trying to hop away. Then the male shifted in a flash, squawking as he awkwardly flew away in his falcon form. Shit.

Breathing hard, Eli stood there—jaw tight, muscles trembling, knuckles burning. He glanced at each of the falcons that were sprawled on the blood-spattered pavement. All were dead. It took a few moments for that thought to truly sink in. Once it did, the battle adrenaline began to fade, and the numbness started to clear from his mind.

He snatched the smartphone from the floor and looked at the screen. Smashed. He pressed the buttons, but it didn’t power to life. Still, he’d take it home and see if Nick could get anything out of it.


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