Page 90 of Crashing Tides

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Idon’t realize what’s happening at first.

A deep, feral roar cuts through the air. I turn my head, but I can’t see through Jordan, can barely see through the pain. When I look down, it’s to discover the knife hasn’t penetrated very far. With a sort of sick fascination, I realize it’s caught on my ribs. But a hunting knife is designed to tear through muscle, sinew, bone. One shove and I’m as good as dead.

“Get the fuck off my mate!” The voice is deep, enraged, bestial. It makes me think of woodland forests and wounded animals, the moonlit dance between predator and prey. Terror thrills in my heart even as something within me settles.

I know that voice. I’ve never been so fucking relieved in my life.

Overhead, there’s a rush of air, a frightened squawk. And then Jordan isn’t there anymore.

The knife is still in my chest.

I lift my head, searching for Jordan. I find him beneath a monster, struggling.

I know that monster. Would know him anywhere, even like this.

“Can you transform halfway, like a wolf man?” I’d asked Duncan once, tracing stars across his chest, grinning and stupid and basking in post-orgasmic glory.

“I could,” he said, reaching to brush the hair from my face, a lazy smirk on his lips. “But it would be excruciatingly painful. And it’s fucking scary. I wouldn’t do it without a really, really good reason.” And then he kissed me, sweet and sensuous, and I forgot all about my question and ended up back underneath of him, which was exactly where I wanted to be.

Like this, he isn’t as big as I might’ve expected. Hair sprouts from his back and limbs in massive tufts. Caught halfway between wolf and man, his face is barely recognizable, but his eyes and brow are familiar. His ash-blond hair is still sideswept, but now it’s streaked with gray. A wolf’s muzzle dominates his face, but it isn’t as furry as it should be, mottled pink skin on display. His mouth is huge. Where his wolf is beautiful and elegant, this form is like something from a nightmare. Hunched, with massive claws, bulging muscles, a sweeping tail.

He’s not wearing any clothes. I catch a glimpse of hairy wolf cock, and then his back turns to me as he leans over Jordan’s prone form.

There’s a lot of screaming. A ripping sound has me pressing my hands to my ears, or where I think my ears should be, because the noise isn’t dampened.

Another wolf flies into the room on all fours. Dark gray and massive, it pounces onto the shorter man, who has only just registered what’s happening, and tries to crawl to his feet, gasping, “Stay back!”

There’s a knife in my chest and I have no legs. All I can do is stare at the scene playing out around me in sheer horror.

Duncan is hunched over Jordan, panting. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing.” His voice is deeper, growlier than I’ve ever heard it.

I take shaky breaths. Duncan is here. I trust him. He’s going to keep Jordan away from me and maybe he’s going to carry me out of here but probably I’m just going to bleed out and⁠—

Jordan makes a noise like a sob. “Get off me.” It’s more a plea than a demand.

“Why the fuck are you carving up my mate?”

There it is again. My mate.

Surely that doesn’t mean what I think it means. It’s probably just a term of endearment, I think, staring at the hilt of the knife. There are some weird symbols carved into it. Is this ceremonial? Was this supposed to be some kind of ritualistic killing? Horror zings down my spine.

The hook is still in my neck. I grasp the handle, manage to gently extricate it. There’s a wet sound. I hope it’s not an actual waterfall of blood, pouring from my neck.

But I already know how this is going to end. I’m not going to get lucky. Adrenaline dampened the worst of the pain, but I’m fucked up. There’s a lot of blood.

“You can’t stop it,” Jordan says. Beneath the belligerence, he sounds scared. Nervous. Like he’s just realized there’s a giant wolf man on top of him, ready to pulverize him if he says the wrong thing.

“What are you talking about?”

“We need to get down here,” Jordan pants.

The smaller man lets out a terrified moan from where he’s pinned beneath massive paws. The wolf snarls, snaps its jaws. Unlike Duncan, this wolf is just a wolf, exactly the kind I might expect to find in the wilderness. Is this another shifter? Or did Duncan somehow convince a wolf to follow him here? Is that something he can do?

A loud growl. “Who do you work for? Who’s paying you?”