A war of right and wrong rages inside me. What’s happening to me? It can’t only be my wolf finally coming out, can it? I don’t know what to think, what to do, or how to feel. I only know I’m afraid of this new voice in my head, this new instinct pushing and urging me.
I look back at the golden-eyed wolf, and I swear he’s smiling.
8
WILDE
Well. Somebody found their wolf. I’ve never seen anything like the white-furred, blue-eyed wolf in front of me, stirring up sheer pant-pissing terror in the pack mates who, just moments ago, were screaming for her death.
Now one of them is dead, and she’s seriously considering making it two.
Fuck if my dick didn’t just twitch at the murderous look in her eyes.
There’s no doubt about it; she wants to tear that girl’s throat out, the one covering her eye with one hand. She’s had her first kill and wants more, and how can I help it? The idea appeals to me. She appeals to me. But I guess the worst part is she deserves it. There is no reason a single look at her should result in an understanding of her life, her past.
Maybe it isn’t only her presence. It’s the presence of the other wolves. Her tormentors. I felt their hatred of her—it was as palpable as the scent of her blood until it turned to horror. Fear. Yes, she deserves this, and I deserve her.
I want to take her. I can’t remember the last time I wanted anything more. Not even when I saw her at the lake. And now my wolf is in control, my wolf who isn’t interested in anything but claiming. Fucking. Mating.
Her wolf wants the same thing. I hear it. Now that the initial rush of bloodlust has passed, there are other just as important urges that need to be fulfilled. Her wolf is howling in my head, frantic, desperate to be free. She’s found her mate, and now nothing in the world will stop her from having him.
Only it isn’t me her wolf wants. I am not her fated mate. Not that I’ve ever known the pull of a fated mate, but I know I’d feel something. It isn’t the kind of thing a wolf can ignore or gloss over. From what I understand, it’s an earth-shifting sensation. A before-and-after experience. There’s no question of what’s happening, and nothing looks the same.
I don’t feel any of that.
I look to my brother, standing by my side, and realize it’s him. His wolf is bound to hers. Does she understand? Does she know what’s happening? I’m not even sure he does, too busy looking over the damage that’s been done here, laughing to himself—I can hear him over her wolf, his amusement at the carnage and chaos that erupted here. I would normally laugh with him because better something like this happens in another pack than ours.
Daniel wanted her to shift. He got what he wanted, and look what happened. She didn’t even need our help. In fact, things could very well have been worse if we weren’t here to get in her way. If something about our presence didn’t bring an end to her rampage.
But there’s something else at play here, something much more important. Something it seems only I can sense. My hackles rise as unbearable tension fills the air. Her wolf howls louder, so loud I’m afraid it’s going to split my head in two, but it’s my brother I’m focused on. He either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care because he isn’t paying attention to her.
He doesn’t know the bond is there, but I do. How doesn’t he sense it? The pressure in my head is enough that it feels like my skull is about to crack open, but somehow, he’s unaffected.
And it’s the strangest thing, the sense of knowing what’s about to happen as I watch it take place. Like déjà vu in real time. The magic connecting them hums in the air, demanding fulfillment, and I’m sure it must stir something in him. He has to feel something, the air crackling the way it is, her wolf howling, demanding, desperate and plaintive.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but I know how this is going to end. I lunge for him, ready to stop him, to at least wake him up to what’s happening. Because he can’t break it. He just can’t. It’s the worst thing a wolf can do.
It’s like I’m moving in slow motion, like one of those dreams where everything’s going at full speed around me, and I can’t do anything to make myself move faster. I want to scream, and I do, screaming at him in my head as I throw my body at him.
But it’s too late. Because he’s already moving, lifting his paw.