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There was no way in hell I was getting out of here alive.
Genevieve.
I couldn’t just leave her without a fucking word.
My control snapped. The monster inside me raged to the surface. Claws grew out of my fingernails while fangs rearranged my goddamn mouth. The power coursing through my veins was intoxicating and exhilarating. I roared, baring my fangs at Lane.
The sound was deafening. The very walls around us shook, and the glasses on the table shattered.
“And there he is,” Lane said with an odd level of pride while I seethed, ready to retaliate. “Beau, you know what to do.”
“Let’s have a little fun, Killy boy,” Beau announced. In a movement so fucking fast I could barely follow it, he drew his pistol, pointed it at my head, and fired three quick shots. Nothing fucking happened. Beau’s head cocked to the side. “Huh… fascinatin’.”
And then the fucker leveled his gun on my heart and fired two more times. I stared down at my chest. There wasn’t a fucking hole. No blood. Nothing.
I rounded on Lane with a vicious growl, fucking blinded by the realization of what Lane had done to me. Lane stood his ground, magic flaring as if daring me to attack him. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a stupid fucking idea.
I was a stupid motherfucker but not that stupid.
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath.
I couldn’t let the monster take over.
Not again.
I wouldn’t.
“You are Killian Byrne.” Genevieve’s voice echoed in my head as I worked to recall how she’d pulled me back from the ledge. “You like apple cider donuts and slow dancing in the kitchen. You have five brothers.”
Declan, Sam, Finn, Lucas, and Nolan. The fucking puppy squad.
“And you were raised by your mom alone. Your favorite holiday is Christmas, but only because you love taking walks to see the lights and going to the holiday market. For our first date, you took me to the holiday market in Copper Spring. You were so nervous that you spilled hot chocolate all over both of us.” Her voice filled every part of me, soothing the uncontrollable thing inside me.
She was the calm in my storm—my anchor.
Chapter 135
Killian
Where did you just go?” Lane asked when I opened my eyes. The monster had receded—claws, fangs, power, and all. “Just now. Where did you go to give you that kind of control?”
“That’s none of your fucking concern,” I snapped. “I didn’t want to be immortal. I don’t want to outlive my family. You had no fucking right to do that!”
“Leave us,” he ordered instead, turning his back on me. Around us, his team filtered out without a word. It left us alone, which I wasn’t a fucking fan of. In fact, I wasn’t a fan of Lane at all at that moment. The audacity of the man. And to be so goddamn calm as he sat down on the couch. He gestured to a seat opposite. “Sit.”
“No,” I said.
“I wasn’t asking, Killian.”
“I don’t give a fuck. I don’t take orders from you.”
“Oh, but you do.” Lane grinned. “I own your ass, remember? That was the deal you fucking made when you asked me to turn you into a werewolf.”
I growled, not giving a fuck about anything. Goddamn fucking man. He was fucking right. I dropped into the seat with a scowl.
“You had no fucking right,” I repeated. “What about my family? Genevieve? My kids? Why the fuck did you even bother helping us? I didn’t want to be immortal! I want my fucking life—”
“I didn’t make you immortal,” Lane interrupted. I shut the fuck to as he waited to see what more I’d say. “I wouldn’t do that to your family, but I also can’t leave you unchecked.”
