Wren
I’m running away as fast as I can when someone grabs me from behind, lifting me off my feet. All I know is that they’re big and seriously strong.
It’s one of them.
“No!” I scream, kicking and thrashing. My heel connects with something solid. He grunts but doesn’t release his hold on me.
“You Mainland bitch!” he snarls in my ear. “You think you’re helping us? You’re poisoning us. You and all the other humans working for them. You’re the enemy.”
“I’m not—” I gasp, clawing at his arms. My nails rake across his skin, but he just tightens his grip, crushing the air from my lungs. “I’m just doing my job. I’m—”
“Your job?” He laughs, and it’s an ugly sound. “You’re pumping that shit into our veins. Just another Mainland puppet.”
“That’s not true.” Panic floods through me. These shifters are completely deranged. Don’t they understand that the vaccinations save lives? That without them, Hemorrhagic Fever could wipe out everyone on this island?
“Let me go!” I scream, fighting harder. My feet kick uselessly in the air. He’s carrying me toward the clinic entrance. Inside, Sally’s eyes are wide with terror.
She slams her hand against the lock mechanism. There is a heavy click of the deadbolt sliding into place. She drags a sofa in front of the door as we arrive there.
Thank goodness.
The male holding me lets out a roar of frustration. He shifts me in his arms, and I get my first good look at him. He’s bald, with mean, cold eyes. There is a scar running down the side of his face.
He charges at the clinic door with me still in his grip.
I scream as we hit the glass. The impact jolts through my whole body, rattling my teeth. But the door holds.
“Sally!” I cry out. “Call for help!”
Sally fumbles with her phone. Her hands are shaking so badly that she nearly drops it.
I wriggle and kick and try to make the deranged shifter’s life more difficult. The male pulls back and slams into the door again. Crap! He’s going to break the glass.
“Stop it.” I’m sobbing now, still fighting him, even though I know that escape is useless. He’s too strong. Way too strong. “Please, just let me go!” I wriggle.
“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to us,” he snarls. “All of you are.”
Over his shoulder, I see Grim. My heart clenches at the sight of him. He’s surrounded by seven or eight males now, all of them armed. They’re beating him down. I watch as a chain wraps around his ankle and yanks him off his feet.
“Grim!” his name rips from my throat.
Then he’s on the ground. They’re kicking him. Hitting him with clubs and chains.
No, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
Grim rolls, barely avoiding a boot to his face. He grabs someone’s leg and pulls, bringing the male crashing down. But there are too many of them and only one of him.
They’re going to kill him. I scream bloody murder. I’m angry and so very afraid.
He looks at me. Our eyes meet for a second, and then he looks at the shifter holding me, and they narrow with rage.
One of the males kicks him in the kidneys; another is about to kick him in the head.
Then his whole body convulses, and for a second, I am sure that he is dying. Instead, his body starts to expand.
Holy freaking shit.
