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“Oh god.” I stare up at it, blinking, trying to mentally unfreeze my limbs so I can join the others in their huddle across the room.
He blinks and then… frowns? Can dogs frown?
Under my astonished gaze, he changes, going from a snarling hell beast to a terrifying man with a wild tangle of shoulder-length blond hair and a bushy beard that partially covers a scar on his cheek. The man I saw in the Jeep outside.
“You’re alive.” His voice is gruff, annoyed.
I nod that yes, I am indeed alive, too shocked to use words yet.
He sits up and I realize he’s naked. Very, very… oh boy. He’s big. He’s big everywhere.
As he moves his weight off me, I try to scramble away, yelping when he grabs my ankle, pinning me in place.
“Glass,” he growls.
“What?” My voice is faint.
“Don’t move. You’re surrounded by broken glass.”
I glance down. He’s right. There’s glass from the window and broken plates everywhere.
“I’m not a dog.”
My eyes go back to the shifter crouched next to me, his penis hanging between his knees. I glance quickly away. “What?”
“You called me a dog.”
I scowl. “I did not.”
“You did. You wondered if dogs can frown.”
Okay, I did. “In my head I wondered if dogs could frown. Not out loud.”
“Mating bond,” he mutters, glancing up, his gaze on the buzzing hive of murder mystery guests. “We should go.”
“I’m not… what?” Did he say mating bond? “I’m sorry, but did you say mating bond?”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Huh?” I touch a hand to my head, wondering if I hit it when I fell. I do enough of these parties; I’ve learned how to fall without hurting myself, but nothing makes sense right now.
“You said you were sorry.”
“I’m not… you said something about a mating bond?” I recognize the phrase. It’s when a shifter finds their mate and bonds with them.
“We’ll talk about it later.” He takes my arm and stands, pulling me up with him. “We have to leave.”
I try to pull my arm away, but his grip is tight. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are.” A cold voice interrupts us from across the room. Yannis, the host, is pointing at us. “Those two, officers.”
My shocked gaze swings to a couple of police officers standing behind the host. I’m not sure if I’m more astonished by their response time or the naked man who leaps in front of me, his bare feet crunching on broken glass as he roars at the assembled people, “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
Seconds later, he’s on the floor, shouting and twitching, four sets of electrodes protruding from his broad chest. I have less than a second to wonder what happened when a pain unlike anything I’ve felt before slices through me, dropping me to my knees.
Our eyes meet, his fierce and angry, golden shards of glittering rage, mine fearful as I clutch my torso. It feels like the currents of electricity are going through him and electrocuting me too, but I haven’t been hit. It’s like I can feel what he feels.
His eyelashes flutter and he’s out. Gasping, I run my hands over my body, but the pain’s gone. Then the officers are moving in on him, dragging him through the glass as I gape after them.
