“He knew the rules. Kill him,” Brock ordered.
Nathan? The guy who bit me? They were going to kill him for that? Shit. With every ounce of energy I could muster, I groaned. “No. Don’t… kill.”
I didn’t want some new wolf being put down on my account. I did wave a bag of burgers around the dark forest on a full moon. My decision-making skills were questionable at best.
Brock sighed, his warm breath coating my face. “Lock him in the barn. I’ll deal with him later.”
My face wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, so I smiled internally.He listened to me. We should start having regular sex.It was like I was drunk again.
‘You’re delusional,’Cass confirmed.‘Losing your mind. I have no idea what’s happening but I’m almost there.’
“Give her to me,” a firm female voice demanded.
I was deposited into another set of arms, and then someone’s nose was in my neck, sniffing long and hard.
“Why does she smell like she’s shifting?” the female asked.
“Fuck,” Brock snarled, and then everything went black.
7It’s All Fun And Games Until You Get Bitten By A Werewolf
I’m in a nightmare,a very painful fucking nightmare, where my body isn’t my own.
There was no other reasonable explanation for the sensations sweeping through my body, making me desperate to break free of it.
It was as if an alien creature was swimming under my skin, looking for a place to pop out unannounced. Like in one of those horror movies where it makes you squirm just to look at the beating, pulsing mass, trying to break free of the poor fucker’s flesh.
Then came the part I’d probably never forget, not even if I lived as long as Gran had. Every. Single. Fucking. Bone in my body broke and shattered. I was sure of it, even in what was certain to be my delirious state. It sounded like chestnuts roasting over an open fire, only with none of that happy, sappy Christmas shit. I was a one-woman firecracker show, and I truly wished I were dead.
The searing pain rolling up and down my body was… torture. Maybe I’d already died and this was hell. That made a certain kind of sense. I’d been naughty plenty in life, though I didn’t exactly think I deserved hell. A good heart had to count for something, right?
I writhed and screamed, arching my body, but there was no escaping what was inside me. What had been inside me all along, as if a zipper along my skin had suddenly torn open, unleashing a beast that had been caged for the past twenty-four years.
Witch blood ran through my veins, which meant I was immune to the virus that turned ordinary humans into a werewolf after being bitten. Yet, in this out-of-my-mind state I was certain of only one thing.
I wasn’t a dud.
Never had been.
That was as big a lie as my entire life. I was something else, something new that I couldn’t yet identify, but I sure as hell was no dud. My neck burned like a motherfucker; it felt as if it were on fire, like my head was hanging from a single sinuous thread. Behind my forehead, an entire marching band drummed, and I hadn’t even had the pleasure of getting rip-roaring drunk.
I opened my eyes once, but all I managed to make out were bright lights and blurred shapes that more or less looked like people, maybe even a furry pink imp or two. Then the pain was too great, and I struggled to maintain consciousness while something tore through my body, intent on killing me, though making me beg for death first.
A whimper escaped me, and I felt hands on my arms in response. One set was probably Cass’; they were soft and fuzzy, but the other set was strong, and they held me tightly.
I writhed in agony, trying to claw at the place in my throat where the wolf had ripped me open, but my hands were quickly swept away, and pinned to my sides. The inability to thrash made everything worse.
Fuck that Nathan wolf. I should’ve let Brock kill him.
The burn seared, as if branding me, and bile rose in my throat. That double cheeseburger didn’t taste nearly as good coming back up. Finally giving in to the pain, I allowed the tears to stream down my cheeks.
I was strong, hell yes, but I wasn’t this strong. No one was this strong. This was like being torn to shreds, limb by limb, tissue from tissue, and then maybe, if I was lucky, put back together. Or maybe I’d be like Humpty Dumpty, who couldn’t be put back together again, and then I was royally screwed, and not in the fun way.
A wave of pain swelled at my neck, so intense that I clenched every muscle in my body against it. It raced down and across my body, which no longer felt like anything I recognized. I fought it so hard that I started panting.
In the end I lost the fight. I just wasn’t sure with what.
My consciousness drifted away to where, at least, there was no more pain. If I was dying, then so be it. Anything but this.
