A muffled voice leaks out, its joy twisted with cruelty, clawing at the seams, like the sound’s too big to be held in by metal and bolts.
“I was gonna be merciful. I was gonna make you something more.” He laughs, small and rotten—some pathetic thing pretending it’s ferocious. “But now, I’m gonna carve you up, piece by fucking piece. And when I’m done? I’ll hand-deliver your pretty little head to Isa myself. The Disciples will see what I’ve done for them. For her. They’ll know I was the one who took the Daughter down.”
Fuck.
He knows. He knows what she is.
And he thinks he can take her. Thinks he can claim what already belongs to me.
An angry red film covers my eyes. My shadows scream, wild with fear and rage and something far more desperate. They beg for destruction. They want me to let go. Because they know what’s waiting in the dark with them. The thing in the cage. The thing that senses her pain and wants to raze the world for it.
And I know, if I lose control now, I won’t save her. I’ll destroy her.
I slip between the crevices of the old truck and almost devour the monster in the driver’s seat when I take in the scene before me.
Jameson has his hands wrapped around her throat, and a massive amount of blood covers Aurora’s face and chest. But my shadows move before I can stop them, slamming against the windshield, trying to break through.
They’re hungry. They’re furious. They want to kill for her.
The Cù Fèidh claws its way out of me, releasing a jagged, splintering sound that doesn’t belong to anything from this world.
The truck vibrates with the force of it, windows rattling in their frames. The light inside the cab dims—not flickering, but swallowed, devoured by creeping, stretching darkness that spreads like ink in water.
A weight stirs in the darkness, something unseen but unmistakably there, pressing against the edges of reality. Something I don’t have time to acknowledge.
She’s fading. And I’m going to make him suffer for it.
Aurora’s eyes are fury and malice, but her eyelids flutter when she sees the Cù Fèidh shift in the dark.
Quiet recognition flares behind her blood-clotted lashes.
Blood leaks between her teeth and down the sides of her face as her lips curve into a wide, wicked grin.
She knows I’m here.
And Jameson, for all his pathetic bravado, has no fucking clue what’s about to happen to him.
But knowing I’m here isn’t enough. She needs to know she can stop fighting now. That I’ll do it for her.
My shadows curl toward her ear and whisper, “I’ve got you, my brave little lupine,” just before she passes out.
Let her rest.
Jameson’s mine now.
In a wisp of smoky shadows, I shift back to my Løkkda. My control almost slips again when my gaze lands on Jameson’s unzipped pants and the shredded remains of his cock resting near Aurora’s mouth.
Get her to safety first. Then I can play with him.
I can’t deny the sense of pride warming my chest. She fought until the very end and destroyed the weapon he used against her.
My brutal little lupine.
My near-naked appearance has the intended effect as Jameson’s hands release Aurora’s neck and reach for the door.
“Oh my, I really hope you’re not reaching for a gun. That would be most unwise,” I snarl.
My head snaps toward him with a wide smile, rows of razor-sharp teeth bared.
