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“Step away before I make you,” Kris warned.
“She’s mine.” It sounded like a roar. A distorted roar that felt so close but sounded so far away.
“Get back!” An unfamiliar voice barked, authority dripping from its tone.
I felt my brother press me closer, tighter, in his arms. Strong. Safe. My body pushed closer to him as I warred internally with the foreignness of my heat.
“Do not let her go,” the new voice ordered, and I felt Kris nod.
“I have her,” he assured the newcomer.
“Where to?”
“The cells.”
I heard the snort of amusement. “Savage.”
Part of me wanted to agree, but I was so hot I needed air. “Kris”—I moaned as I tried to put space between us—“it’s so hot.”
“No, Kez. Fight it.” Impossibly, his hold got tighter, squeezing me and making it difficult to breathe.
“I need air.” Pushing against his chest, I tried to break free.
“We need to hurry, or she’s going to snap.” He pressed my head into his shoulder, and I was roughly jostled before I realized he was running.
Metal clanged, and a foul odor overwhelmed me, causing me to gag in my brother’s hold.
Dimly, I was aware that I was on my feet, and then I was alone in a cell. Metal banged against metal, and I heard the ear-piercing turn of the lock.
“This may not hold her,” I heard the voice from before murmur.
“It’ll hold,” Kris answered grimly. “She’s strong…but she won’t fight this. I know her.”
Standing in the cell with my eyes closed, I heard everything. I heard their low voices and Pack Leader Bale above me, telling the others who had been called to my heat to back off. I felt the surrounding air—thick, heavy, and cloying on my skin. A strong smell of urine overpowered everything, making my stomach roll, and then the familiar scent of cedarwood and pine drifted to me.
My brother.
My protector.
My jailer.
Growling, my lips curled back over my fangs, which I could feel growing from my gums. I opened my eyes and stared at my brother.
“You’ll be okay,” Kris assured me as he stepped forward. “The first heat is the worst. You have this…you can do it.”
Lunging forward, I grabbed for him, a small rational part of my brain registering that my hands had shifted to claws.
“Kezia!” Kris barked at me, his stare hard and unyielding. “Control it.”
“Fuck you.” I reached through the bars, straining to get to him. I needed to maim him. Hurt him. He did this to me. He caged me. “Let me out.”
“No.” Kris stepped into my reach. “Hurt me if you need to, little sister. I’m here.”
He hardly finished the words before my claws raked down his bare arm, drawing blood and making my mouth water.
Wildly, I licked at my claws, savoring the taste. It was so good, but I needed more. “More.”
“Bale,” Kris ordered, and even my wolf stilled at the authority in my brother’s voice. I forgot as soon as we smelled the blood. “In the corner, Kez,” Kris ordered me.
