“Hate being exposed out in the open like sitting ducks, or are you feeding off of my anxiety?” It takes me a second to realize thatI’mspeaking freely, not even registering the transition this time.
Obviously none of them answer, herding me under the cover the trees offer. Even hidden in the woods on the back of their property, though, they don’t settle down. A restless energy emanates off of them in waves that I can practically taste in the air, like the static charge right before a storm breaks. When I don’t catch on quickly enough, they start nipping at me. Shoulders, arms, legs; they’re relentless.
I’m ushered deeper, where the dense canopy blocks out all but the faintest traces of moonlight. At this rate, I’m going to trip on a root and break my neck, but I can only imagine that after spending their entire existence sealed away alone in the darkness, all of the open space, people, scents, and sounds would be a sensory overload in their already stressed-out states, so I don’t protest. When we’re fully concealed and as isolated as we can get on the property, though, they still don’t calm down.
Done herding me where they want, they go back to nipping like damn puppies. I shove Bo’s muzzle away for the tenth time, only for Slade to bite the bottom of my shirt and start stepping back, like he means to rip it off. Understanding now, I gently tug it out of his mouth, but it doesn’t escape unscathed. Though sadly, the small tears are nothing compared to the gross slap of wet fabric that snaps back, now clinging to my side.
“No.” My answer is soft yet firm as I smooth a hand over heads and necks, refusing to shift despite their emphatic insistence.
A dangerous sound escapes Damian in response that immediately sets off the other two. Next thing I know, all three are at each other's throats; snarling, biting, and slamming into one another like they had a heaping bowl of testosterone and steroids for breakfast. When Slade and Damian nearly slide into me as they go skidding in the dirt, Bo latches onto his brother’s leg and flings them both aside into a tree trunk with a furious whip of his head before jumping back into the fray.
“Hey!”
My shout is infused with enough power that they instantly freeze, but make no move to unclamp their jaws from whatever body part they currently have trapped in their mouths. Striding over, I put my hands on Damian and Slade first, since Boden’s a follower, not a leader, and likely just matching their energy. My inner wolf takes over more gently this time, and a few seconds later, the heady rush of power flows into me as I siphon some of their chaotic energy. I hold my breath, flashbacks from this morning flitting through my mind, but am a little less afraid after seeing that she could stop with Cinjin.
Damian bucks to free himself from my grasp, and I tangle my fingers into his fur to tighten my hold. Slade releases a dangerous rumble the entire time, yet remains preternaturally still; even his wolf seems to want to be rid of the toxic energy that plagues him. Bo, the giant, murderous puppy, acts as if he's more pissed off that he’s being left out than anything, and forces Damian out of the way so that he can take his spot.
Breathing through my nose, a splitting headache blossoms in my skull as I clench my jaw tight enough that it threatens to snap the tendons. Coupled with the onslaught I took on this morning, it’s overwhelming, and when I release them, I fall back on my ass. All of my nerve endings are electrified and jittery, my body trembling from the influx of energy. With a lurch, my stomach roils violently, and it takes everything I have not to throw up, leaving me gasping for air.
The sudden urge to hunt down the guy that hurt Emmy is so strong that I attempt to get to my feet, but immediately collapse again.I wonder if burning flesh smells differently when they’re still alive or if it’s the same as the corpses we disposed of.
As soon as the thought appears, it’s buried beneath brief flashes of images. Reid, with his throat ripped out at the base of the stairs. Cin, Hunter, and Kaige, so thoroughly torn apart, they’re nearly unrecognizable, limbs scattered throughout the dining room.
And me, my lifeless eyes unfocused as Slade crouches above me, wiping his bloody hands off on my dress.
It’s not real, none of this is real.
A low whine is followed by Boden’s massive head sliding onto my lap.
“I’m going to kill her.” I shut my eyes tighter as the intrusive thought echoes around my skull, the voice a whisper morphing from one of my mate’s to the next on repeat.
My fingers twitch with the phantom desire to put a bullet through Adrian’s skull.
It’s not real.
Bending forward, I bury my face in Bo’s fur, using the pressure against my skin as a grounding point. One breath, then another, but the taste of ash and death is heavy on my tongue, the scent filling my nose and refusing to let me escape the desire to incinerate everything and everyone around me.
Embracing the mantra my therapist drilled into my head, I choke out, “Your initial response is what you were taught to think, and the second thought is actually yours. Unlearning the toxic way of thinking and behaviors that were an integral part of your development takes time and repetition. The important thing is that you recognize it, and choose to do better.”
Another wave of nausea assaults me, and I have to take a few seconds to breathe through it before I can murmur, “Those thoughts aren’t mine, and I am not going to act on them. No burning, no shooting, and no dismembering.”
Bo whines again, as if he’s apologizing for hurting me, even though it was my choice to make myself temporarily sick to ease their-
Theirpain, that I took upon myself.Theirthoughts; not mine.
Panting, I look up at Slade and Damian, both of whom are pacing in agitation, still restless since I didn’t take nearly enough of the edge off for them.Because they do this sort of thing all of the time. How much of this pain is actually theirs, and how much is simply the burdens they’ve taken on throughout their lives to spare other people?
If they deal with this constantly, how are they not stark raving mad?
My wolf temporarily knocked out of commission, I suddenly find myself back in full control of my miserable body with no fucking clue what to do about it. Desperately needing a few minutes to collect myself, I grasp for straws.
Not men, not monsters; a breed of their own. Ruled by instinct, even if they’re still in there somewhere.Sucking down air as an excuse to buy myself a little time, I quickly find it a useless effort.
They don’t give a shit.
Bo’s reacting to my discomfort, while Slade and Damian look like they’re ready to kill something simply to burn off some steam.
That’s it.
