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ChapterSeventeen

Johnathan slid through the frozen forest, where dawn hadn’t yet arrived.

He had no idea how long he’d run or where he headed.

Caught within the hunt, nothing else mattered.

Nothing else existed.

Behind him, the voice of his meta-pack rose.

They didn’t stand a chance. He was stronger, faster, more cunning even without his blood-born advantage. It made the lack of particles, the absence of scent, irrelevant because all Johnathan had to do was feel.

A heartbeat, a breath, the flex of muscle.

How snow bit the skin. How the cold pulled the fever from flesh.

The forest opened up and there in the center, Dr. Dante on his knees. His right shoulder hung in ribbons among shards of bone. All the color had leached from his cheeks, and the remaining life left in his eyes threatened to vanish.

Johnathan was so focused on the agony and fear contorting Dr. Dante’s expression, he almost missed his mirror image standing behind him.

Paul stretched his lips into a bloody grin.

Rain tapped the living room windows and muffled thunder preceded a soft flash of lightning.Johnathan was still on the couch where he’d fallen asleep, not in the woods, not watching Dr. Dante die at the hands of his brother.

A dream. Just a dream.

A door whispered closed. Floorboards creaked. In the darkness.

Dr. Dante was a silver shape shadowed in grays. When Johnathan blinked, the particles Dr. Dante shed followed him on his way to the front window.

The density of the trail faded faster than normal, but his scent was the same.

Dr. Dante eased himself to the floor and leaned his head against the window frame. He’d gotten rid of the heavy fleece pants and top, leaving him dressed in boxers and a T-shirt.

Johnathan willed himself to speak, move, anything, but Dr. Dante might leave if he did.

After several long moments, Dr. Dante tensed and turned his head, meeting Johnathan’s gaze.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Johnathan kept his voice soft.

“You didn’t.” Dr. Dante shook his head like he’d answered a silent question. “Maybe a little but…” He returned to watching the storm. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I was.” Part of Johnathan wished he still was, and this was a dream. That way, he could do all the things he wanted to do to Dr. Dante without remorse.

“No, I mean, upstairs with the others. Your…”

“Meta-pack mates.”

“I was going to say team, but yeah.”

“It was too loud.”

Dr. Dante laughed a little. “What, they snore?”

If only. “No.”

Dr. Dante tensed. “Was it… my fault?”


Tags: Adrienne Wilder Wolves Incarnate Fantasy