Page 159 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

I stared at the blood on his neck, the way he was favouring his left side, the pallor beneath his skin. “But…”

“Felix.” Slate-grey eyes held mine steadily. “I can feel their confusion. They’re not going to follow me like this. I need to show them I’m still their alpha. Be their leader.”

My throat closed up. I’d just got him back. The thought of losing him again, of watching his human consciousness disappear into wolf instincts whilst his body was this battered, this broken…

“Okay,” I said, impossibly quietly.

Kit cupped my face with both hands. “I will always come back to you. Always.”

Before I could reply, he was already shifting. Bones cracked and reformed with sounds I felt in my chest, muscles rippling as his body stretched and changed. I watched, mesmerised, as his features elongated, silver-grey fur sprouting across skin that became something altogether more magnificent. Within seconds, the massive timber wolf stood before me, coat marked with darker patches around intelligent amber eyes that were still unmistakably Kit’s. Even injured, he radiated pure, wild power.

I stroked my thumb across the scar slashing through his left eye. “My lovely, beautiful wolf.”

Kit’s gaze held mine for another heartbeat before he turned to face the pack, his posture changing to commanding.

The effect on the other wolves was immediate. Every single one dropped low, bellies pressed to the concrete floor, heads bowed in submission. The enormous black wolf that had been stalking us moments before now whined softly, tail tucked between his legs.

“Fucking hell,” Rory murmured.

Fucking hell indeed.

Kit moved through them with regal grace, touching his nose to several bowed heads. A few wolves rolled onto their backs completely, exposing their throats in ultimate surrender. The entire pack trembled with reverence, as if they were in the presence of something holy.

When Kit lifted his massive head and released a low, commanding howl, every wolf in the facility responded in perfect harmony. Goosebumps prickled along my arms.

“Isla!”

Moira’s sharp voice cut through the haunting chorus. I spun around to find her standing in the doorway, rifle raised and pointed directly at Kit.

Isla gasped, mouth dropping open as if she never expected her mother to be here. “Ma? What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Moira’s voice pitched higher with disbelief. “What are you doing? You left me no choice but to come get you! Why didn’t you come to the bunker?”

But surely she already knew the answer. She had to. There was no way she hadn’t been watching this entire confrontation unfold. She’d activated Kit’s chip.

“Let them go,” Isla said, stepping between the rifle and Kit. “Let Kit, Rory, and Felix go, and I’ll come with you.”

“Isla,” Rory whispered.

Kit growled low, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the building’s foundations itself.

Rory shook his head firmly. “We’re not leaving the wolves here. There’s no way Kit will do that.”

“Don’t be so stupid!” Moira snapped. “Those are currently assets worth millions of pounds.”

“Ma, please.” Isla’s voice cracked, and she inhaled a ragged breath. “Maybe we can… maybe we can just… stop now?”

“I always forget that you’re still a child.” Moira’s fury radiated off her in waves. “You have no idea what you’re suggesting.”

Kit’s ears flattened against his skull. Something in his posture shifted—a subtle gathering of tension that made my stomach drop.

The wolves moved as one.

Multiple massive forms launched themselves at Moira in perfect synchronisation. She screamed as bodies slammed into her, the rifle flying from her hands to clatter across the floor. Wolves pinned her down, growling and snapping, their combined weight keeping her motionless.

Her face stretched like melting wax, jaw pushing forward with sharp bone-deep cracks. She was trying to shift.

“Please don’t kill her!” Isla screamed.