Carter's Tryck [Brac Pack 17] by Lynn Hagen Page B

him again, but Carter scrambled further away.
    “No, get away from me! You don’t even want people to know about us.” Carter pulled at his torn clothing, trying his best to make his shirt close.
    Tryck saw his mate’s pants ripped apart as Carter grabbed them too, trying to make his clothes close around his exposed flesh.
    His canines punched through with such force his gums began to bleed. Tryck could taste the coppery liquid in his mouth as the wrath of hell tore through him. “Who did this?” Tryck growled when Nicholas approached and knelt down by Carter. He wanted to protect his mate, keep everyone away.
    “Not now,” Nicholas said to Tryck as he slowly approached Carter.
    “I won’t hurt you, I swear.” The doctor spoke softly to Carter.
    Carter looked up at Nicholas, staring at him as if he were a stranger. His body started to shake, his fingers clenching his shirt closed. Carter whimpered, and then began to cry. It turned into hysterical screaming.

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    Tryck moved in. He didn’t care what Nicholas said. He pulled his mate into his arms, holding on to him as he stood, cradling Carter tightly to his chest.
    Tryck ran up the stairs, crashing through his bedroom door. He paced back and forth, unsure of himself. He didn’t know what to do.
    “Put him on the bed. I need to examine him.” Nicholas spoke from the door. Tryck continued pacing. He couldn’t bring himself to let go. He feared by letting go, Carter would be harmed all over again.
    He wanted blood, he wanted revenge, but most of all, he wanted to take his mate’s pain away.
    “Tryck, he needs to be examined. I have to see what, if any, damage there is.” Nicholas insisted in a soft, compassionate tone.
    He nodded, took a step toward the bed, and then turned around.
    What should he do? He couldn’t do it, couldn’t let his mate go.
    “Tryck.”
    He turned, walked across the room, and gently laid his mate down. Tryck watched in a detached state as Nicholas coaxed Carter to uncurl himself. His eyes scanned his mate’s body as the doctor pulled the tattered clothes off of Carter.
    He spun around, slamming his eyes closed when the doctor began to check anally. God no!
    Tryck punched his head with his fists. Someone was going to die.
    Someone was going to die tonight and he would make sure it was long and drawn out. Whoever had done this would wish for death by the time he was done with them.
    Nicholas approached him, touching his shoulder gently, but Tryck couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He couldn’t. His world was about to come crashing down around him and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
    “He wasn’t violated.”
    The words took a moment to register. Once Nicholas’s words sunk in, Tryck was able to breathe again. He turned and walked to the Carter’s Tryck
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    bed. He stared down at his mate who was tucked in. “Please, tell me who,” Tryck begged.
    Carter buried his face, crying into the covers. His shoulders shook as he turned away from Tryck, giving him his back. “Teaky.” Tryck stormed from the room, flew down the steps, raced to his bike, and tore from the driveway. Raged filled him to the point where blood no longer pumped through his veins. Death did, and he was going to share all of it with that fucking dead man.
    He leaned forward, pushing his bike past one hundred twenty as he raced to the small village.
    His bike roared up into the center, jumping from it as soon as it stopped. He threw his head back and shouted. “Teaky!”
    “He’s not here,” an Elvin man informed him.
    Tryck's arms flung out to his sides, his nails elongating as his eyes shifted. His canines had never receded. “Bring him to me now!” Tryck looked over his shoulder as two more bikes approached, his brothers. They parked their motorcycles and walked over, standing at his flank. “We know where he lives.” Law led Tryck to a small dwelling.
    Tryck tore it apart, but Teaky was nowhere to be found.

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