In his research, he’d discovered an enzyme in his saliva that made his kind impervious to human diseases. He’d tested the isolated enzyme on several terminal patients in the end stages of cancer, and while they initially exhibited signs of being healthy, the effects wore off in days. Subsequent injections were less and less effective. Four out of the five patients in his trial study had accepted his invitation for transformation, but only two had survived long enough to take part.
Conor regretted his inability to save the other two patients, but it was too dangerous to change a human outside of an organized culling. The reconstruction of a person’s body to that of a lycanosapien could be extremely painful and deadly. It’s why the tribe only changed people in a controlled environment and only after they’d pumped the invited full of sedatives. Even then, the newly converted werewolf would need the support of the tribe upon awakening.
Because he’d been born a wolf, Conor would never know what a culled member went through when altered by bite and blood. But he knew with certainty, if Anna didn’t allow him to change her, she’d return to her fragile state of health in a couple of days, and be dead in a couple of months. All his work would be for nothing.
“My wolf claims you as mate, Conor Evans.” He heard Rebecca drop to her knees behind him. “If your woman won’t submit, then you must allow our second natures to decide.”
Rebecca, by right, had first claim on Conor, but she’d never have him where it counted. He kept his gaze trained on Anna. She seemed strangely calm now—her demeanor almost cold. “I have chosen you, Anna Davis. In all my life, I will never love another. You are the ruler of my heart and body, but if you refuse the invitation, then I’ll let you go.” He squeezed her shoulders for emphasis. He needed her to decide now. “I want you, but I will take Rebecca. It’s my duty to my kinsmen and to my tribe to take a mate.”
The pull of Rebecca’s wolf was hard to resist with his own animal so close to emerging. When she rubbed her breasts against his back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed his neck, he didn’t respond but he didn’t stop her.
“I won’t let you go,” Rebecca whispered fiercely.
Anna threw herself forward, wound her fingers into Rebecca’s long hair, and yanked her sideways. “Don’t fucking touch him, bitch. Conor is mine!”
