Hot breath hits my ear as he growls a single command.“Shift back.”
I snarl in refusal.
His fangs sink deeper into my shoulder and pain flares, white-hot and electric.
“Shift,”he growls again, his voice vibrating through my bones.
I fight it.
I fight it.
I fucking fight it.
But the hold tightens.
My wolf howls in pain, instincts buckling under the pure dominance of the wolf attacking me.
My body collapses inward, bones cracking as I’m forced back into my human form. I gasp as skin replaces fur. I’m cold and bleeding in the dirt underneath a wolf the size of a damn car.
Leaves crunch nearby, and then I see silver-tipped boots.
Talon and Thorne Eustace step out of the shadows like a matched set of nightmares, their pack fanning out behind them.
Talon’s lip curls. “Well, well. The strays.”
Thorne cracks his knuckles. “And here we were hoping you’d run farther. The chase was starting to get fun.”
Buff and Froggy are both still tangled in silver-mesh netting, panting and shaking from the pain.
I glare up at the twin alphas despite the wolf pinning me down, despite the blood running down my arm, despite every instinct screaming at me to submit or die.
“Go ahead,” I spit. “Take your victory lap.”
Thorne grins. “Who said anything about victory?”
Talon steps forward, crouching down so his face is level with mine. “This?” he says softly. “This is just the beginning.”
The wolf on my back finally lets me go only for two pack enforcers to grab my arms and drag me upright.
We’re surrounded, outnumbered, and captured. And the worst part? I know what happens next with Eustace wolves. And none of it is quick.
Or merciful.
Chapter 3
Jason
My whole body is trembling so hard my teeth knock together. My head keeps dropping forward, swinging on my neck until it finally hangs against my chest. I can’t lift it. I can’t lift anything. Whatever strength I had bleeds out of me in hot, dizzy waves, like someone punched a hole straight through an artery.
My wolf has already gone under and dragged himself deep, deep down into the dark where pain can’t follow. Lucky bastard. If he were here for this, it would break him. Or I should say it would break us. And maybe that’s the only mercy I get right now.
“Fuck me, that was fast,” Buff mutters beside me on the flatbed.
He’s not wrong. They didn’t fuck around. They set up this makeshift trial faster than a shotgun wedding. Our hands are wrenched behind our backs, the silver chains biting into the skin that feels like it’s already cooked raw. The scent of burnt flesh has eased, but it still clings to the air in thick, sour clouds, reminding me of just how fucked we are. Every move I make drags a new section of skin across the metal, slow and deliberate, like acid dripping from a cracked pipe. It should make me hiss. It should make me snarl. But I’ve burned through all my reactions.All that’s left is the steady, stupid throb of pain that feels like a second heartbeat.
To my right, Froggy hangs in his chains, his head drooping, and his shoulders caved in. Same as me. Same as Buff. Resignation rolls off him so thick I can taste it at the back of my throat. None of us say it out loud, but the truth sits heavy in the air. We’re about to get torn apart.
We’re deep in a clearing in the forest. Trucks are parked in a tight circle, their high beams finding us like a finger pointing at the guilty. Mud slicks the ground from the earlier rain, cold and unrelenting like quicksand. I can’t help it, but some bitter part of me blames the weather. If the earth hadn’t turned to sludge, we’d have outrun them. We would’ve been ghosts by now.
