Adrenaline has blood pounding through my veins, so I barely feel the kick. I continue to fight against the shadow’s hold, desperate to get free and reach Amora. She’s at the mercy of the pack, and none of us are free to get to her. To protect her.
I struggle, little yips coming from my snout with the effort. But the shadow is too strong, too well-placed on my body.
Quinton kicks me again, and this time, I go limp, dark spots creeping in at the edges of my vision. “Fools. After all I’ve done for you.”
Amora laughs. What? Destroying their humanity? Taking away everything that’s good in their lives?
Quinton can’t hear her in his human form. I cling to her voice, to her words, taking comfort in the way she continues to fight for us. Words are strong. Words are powerful.
We made the right choice aligning with Amora. I would make that same choice over and over again.
Quinton walks around me, glancing over at Kian and Malix, who have both gone still. “Perhaps you were always too weak for my purposes.” His lip curls cruelly, his glare leveling on me. “Too easily defeated. Too soft.”
I return his glare, baring my teeth at him. For just a second, our old alpha looks… disturbed. Perhaps he’s not used to any show of emotion from me, and he certainly isn’t used to us going against his will.
Then his expression hardens, and he snaps, “Shift, Frost. I’m going to make an example of you.”
I continue to glare at him, a growl rumbling up from the depths of my chest. Never.
That’s right, Amora says proudly. Fuck him.
I glow from her praise. I still can’t see her—she’s being restrained well outside my field of vision. But her presence comforts me. Makes me feel stronger.
We can still win this.
Quinton snarls at my defiance. “Fine. We’ll test it on your shadow wolf instead. See how much you can take.”
As he speaks, Santiago appears behind him, carrying a small velvet satchel.
The alpha pulls out a smooth black stone.
I blink as I stare up at it. We’ve known of its existence for a long time, of course. This stone is the source of Quinton’s power, the way he created the three of us. But I’ve never actually seen it. It’s smooth on all sides, slightly oblong, and a deep ebony color that seems to swallow the little bit of light that filters down from the moon and stars overhead.
Given that the stone comes from the realm of shadows, I expect it to hold some kind of sway over me. Or for it to soothe the shadows inside me, the way being close to the shadow realm does. But there’s something almost perverted about the stone, as if being in Quinton’s grasp for so long has changed it. Warped it away from its original purpose.
“My mistake with the three of you was that I had faith in you for too long,” he drawls, his voice cruel. “I should have known that you were all useless when you spent so long trying to reach the shadow realm and couldn’t do it. So I’ll find another way. Thanks to the shadows that Felicity conjured up—the ones that I now control—I have more creatures to do my bidding. And I’ll make more shadow shifters too. I’ll make them stronger. I’ll imbue them with more magic, make them more shadow and less wolf, so that they can’t be defeated so easily.”
A muffled whine comes from behind me. I can’t tell if it’s Kian or Malix. Maybe it’s both. The emotions of each of my brothers are surging through the bond. Fury and terror and vengeful wrath.
Quinton nudges me with his foot, smiling. “Perhaps the other two will reconsider their defiant actions if I make an example of you. So you will be my test subject. We’ll see how much shadow magic a shifter can take before he dies.”
Closing his eyes, the alpha palms the stone in one hand and holds his other hand in the air over it. He breathes deeply, clearly centering himself and preparing to perform magic with the stone.
I take advantage of his distraction to attempt to break free yet again. I writhe against the shadow’s choking hold, desperate to tear it off me and put distance between myself and that stone.
But the shadow cuts into me. I can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t get away.
Frost! Kian calls. Focus. Don’t let him touch you.
The words no sooner reach my mind than Quinton’s magic plows into me.
A torrent of darkness and pain surges through my body and soul. My already existing shadows clash with the new shadows that are being forced into me, and the existing pain and rage intensifies, burning like fire beneath my skin.
I lose sight and all sense of self as agony fills my mind. My shadowy tattoos seize on my body and it feels like my skin is going to crawl off me, leaving me nothing but bone and blood and shadow on the ground.
As a last ditch effort to escape, I let my form shift to human. I’m conscious enough to recognize it’s a smaller shape. If I catch the shadow that’s binding me by surprise, perhaps I can break free—even with every cell in my body fighting against me.
Cold air rushes over my bare skin, but it can’t chase away the fury and agony inside me. The shadow squeezes tighter, adjusting to my new form as if it knew exactly what I was going to do.
Maybe it did.
But it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t run or fight anymore even if I weren’t bound. My human form feels even weaker than my wolf form, and as Quinton continues to feed dark magic into my bones, my sinew, my soul, it feels as if I might tear apart.
I am nothing but shadow.
More and more darkness is being forced into me. More than I can take. More than I can survive. I throw my head back and scream over the distant sound of Amora calling my name, my brothers begging me to be strong, the people I love fighting to reach me.
It isn’t enough.
I scream. And scream. My throat turns raw. I think there are tears on my cheeks, but I cannot separate my senses from the overwhelming shadows that invade my body.
I’m drowning. It’s as if I’m back beneath the dark water of a mountain stream—but this time, I can’t emerge from the cold torrent.
The water has closed over my head. The oxygen is leaving my body.
No. I can’t die. I can’t hurt my brothers like this.
I can’t hurt Amora.
Everything goes dark.