Page 51 of Vicious Luna
“You’re ashifter?” I spit, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “You’re hunting your own kind?!”
“I’m not a fucking werewolf!” he shouts back.
Is this guy for real right now?
“Clearly you are,” I scoff, stumbling back a step as my whole world is knocked off balance. My mind is spinning, my wolf chanting a chorus ofmatein my brain like a broken record while I try to shut her up so I can fucking think.
This can’t be happening. Shifters have a distinct scent, and I’ve never smelled it on Cam before. Except now… fuck, I smell itnow! How the hell is this possible? And why is he acting just as shocked about this turn of events as I am?!
“What did you do to me?” Cam demands, his tone edged with panic. “Did you bite me or something?!”
“What do you think this is, Teen Wolf?” I snort, rolling my eyes. “Being a shifter is genetic, not a fucking disease!” I throw up my arms in exasperation. “Do you really expect me to believe you didn’t fucking know?!”
He goes to take a step toward me, but then his eyes flash gold and he doubles over again, clutching his head in pain. “Make it stop!” he yells as the air starts to shimmer around his body, dark fur sprouting from his skin, then receding.
Honestly, it’s almost as painful to watch as it looks like it is to endure. I remember my first few shifts as being uncomfortable, but since my brother’s wolf manifested first, he helped coach me through them until shifting became second nature. It’s painless so long as you don’t resist.
Cam’s clearly resisting his wolf, and the result is horrific. This was supposed to be my opening to subdue him and get the hell out, but instinctually, I want to help him. Ineedto help him.
“Stop resisting!” I shout over the sounds of his agonized groans, moving closer as the loud pop of a bone shifting in his leg brings him to his knees. “Accept your wolf, let him through!”
He lifts his head weakly, his eyes flashing chaotically from dark to gold as they land on me. “Just get out!” he bellows.
Dude is having areallybad time right now.
My inner wolf whines as she watches Cam through my eyes with hearts in hers, urging me to stay and help our mate, but fuck that. Shifter or not-mate or not- he’s still the man responsible for my captivity. This is the opening I’ve been waiting for, and he just told me to leave. Why the hell would I stick around?
I dart past him toward the cell door, skidding to a stop and whipping around to ask, “What’s the code?”
Cam screams out in torment again, clawing at his head asanother snap of his bones takes him down to the ground. “B-back way,” he pants, chest heaving as he reaches an arm out to gesture vaguely toward the hallway in the opposite direction of the bathroom. “The old s-storm cellar,” he chokes. “Two four one four five!”
Shit, he’s a mess. As much as my wolf doesn’t want to leave her mate, I’m in fucking survival mode here, so I do what I have to. I bury her as deep as I can, ignoring her keening cries to stay and help. I sprint out of the cell and down the dark hallway, turning the knob on the only door at the end. It opens to a cramped, oddly shaped room with a short set of stairs at the back, leading up to an angled door with a keypad affixed to the rusted lock.
One way out of here, my ass.
I cringe at the sound of a wolf’s pained howl echoing down the hall as I ascend the steps two at a time, punching in the numeric sequence that Cam gave me on the keypad. The light turns green as the lock disengages, and I shove at the door, forcing it back.
I suck in a ragged breath of fresh air as I climb out, relishing in the sweet taste of freedom.
25
All I know is searing, blindingpain. It eclipses all rational thought and any sense of the world around me, to the point where all I can do is pray for a quick death to put me out of my misery. My bones feel like they’re splintering apart. My muscles feel like they’re shredding to ribbons. It’s as if I’m being torn to pieces from the inside out, every inch of my body on fire while an explosion detonates inside my skull.
I’ve known pain before, but never like this. The harder I try to fight through it, the more it hurts.
Soon after my mom died, I began to recognize a darkness growing inside me; a beast borne of rage that I kept carefully locked away. I thought it was metaphorical- a coping mechanism to compartmentalize my emotions- but tonight he’s suddenly taken on a life of his own, turning me into the very monster I’ve spent the better part of my life hunting.
It doesn’t make sense. If it didn’t hurt so damn much, I’d think this was all some fever dream or elaborate hoax. Maybe that persistent headache I’ve been having reallyisa brain tumor, and the sickness has taken over, giving me vivid hallucinations.
Or maybe my entire life has been a lie.
The moment Avery takes off sprinting down the hallway away from me, there’s a harsh yanking sensation in my chest, something deep inside urging me to go after her. The instinct is overwhelming, and it’s the last push the beast needs to finally claw his way through my skin. Before I can even grasp what’s happening, I’m catapulted to the back of my own mind as he fully inhabits my body, bones snapping and rearranging until all traces of my humanity are gone and I’ve taken on the form of a wolf.
It doesn’t hurt anymore now that the change is complete, but I’m not in control of my own body, either. It’s like I’m watching the world through the animal’s eyes as he throws back his head, a low howl tearing from his throat.
Ourthroat.
Not only do I hear it, but Ifeelthe strain in my vocal cords.