Page 133 of Knight’s Retribution

He growled under his breath. Time was running out, but hounds can’t be rushed. They did things at their own pace. Add to that their dislike of uninvited guests, and they were more than happy to let him stew.

He checked his phone again. Nothing. Willow had asked him to pick her up here. She said she’d have Vorena’s payment for her demon blood, but Willow hadn’t replied to his text telling her he’d arrived. He hit her number. It rang until her voice echoed down the line, asking him to leave a message.

Shit.

He took in the building in front of him again. The hounds lived in Linville, a small town in New Jersey, and to anyone looking, they would assume the hounds were an outlaw motorcycle club. Playing the part wasn’t exactly difficult. The hierarchy, brotherhood, and lawlessness of an outlaw MC summed up the way the hounds had always lived.

They rode bikes when they couldn’t shift and run, giving them the sense of freedom they craved, and they’d converted the old warehouse they’d acquired into the human version of a biker’s clubhouse. They’d even painted Devil Dogs, the emblem they wore on their leather vests, on the outside wall.

But what he could see of the clubhouse was the literal tip of the iceberg. Below ground were tunnels, and lots of them, huge areas dug out and fortified, where they lived and slept.

There was no way Rocco would ever find Willow down there, even if he tried to get in.

He called Willow’s phone again.

Again, nothing.

And still not one hound looked his way. The fuckers had tagged him as soon as he’d arrived, but they were keeping him waiting, because again, hounds did not rush for anyone, and as much as he wanted to just fly over the fence, he knew better than to do that. Hellhounds were extremely territorial, and even allies coming into their territory uninvited was not something they would tolerate. There was also the fact that there was only one of him right now, and a fuck of a lot of them.

Finally, after standing there holding his dick for another fifteen minutes, Edric, one of the lower-ranking males, deigned to approach.

“What brings you here, knight?” Like all hounds, his voice was low and gritty as if his vocal cords were reluctant to form actual words, preferring instead to growl or snarl.

“Willow. I’m here to pick her up.”

The male’s brows rose. “Warrick know about this?”

Rocco shrugged, trying not to show the suffocating urgency damn near crushing him. Hounds were assholes by nature, and the more desperate Rocco looked, the slower the fucker would go.

Edric smirked and turned to one of the others. “Tell our alpha that Willow has a visitor.”

Jesus, he didn’t have time for a pissing match with the hellhound alpha. Willow and Warrick had something going on. He didn’t know what the situation was, and he didn’t fucking care. The female was more than capable of taking care of her own business.

A short time later, the huge alpha strode out of the clubhouse and took his damn time getting to Rocco.

Roc fought his driving impatience as the hound finally reached him.

The other male eyed him as he scratched the side of his beard. “What do you want with Willow?”

“If she hasn’t told you, then it’s not my place to fill you in,” Rocco said, not wanting to fuck around with this. But Willow was a friend, and he wouldn’t screw her over.

“She’s mine, what she does is my business,” he said, though it was more growl than actual words.

Typical fucking hound. “Does she know she’s yours? What does she think about that?”

Warrick shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

Rocco bit back a curse because he had to give the male something, or they’d be here all fucking night. “You know my situation?” he bit out.

The big male dipped his chin, some fury creeping into his hard stare. Like the knights, when a hellhound claimed their mate, they put their female above everything and everyone. And even though Roc hadn’t been able to make Kyler his mate before she was taken, Warrick understood he’d do anything to get her back.

“You know I have no interest in Willow beyond what she’s always been to the knights, a friend.”

Warrick growled under his breath. “Chaos was more than friendly.”

“Chaos is mated now, and whatever he and Willow had back then was purely physical.”

The hound seemed to get bigger in front of Rocco, his lips peeling back. “You’re not helping your cause, Rocco.”