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“What if Emrys is right?” Ashton asks breathlessly.
“Whoa, boys.” I lift my hands. “Are we talking about sex among yourselves? Or am I expected to take one for the team? Because if it’s the latter, you might want to ask first if I’m interested.”
Suddenly, four pairs of eyes are trained on me.
“So are you?” Sindri asks. “Interested?”
“You all want me to have sex with Jason to stop him from shifting?” I breathe, incredulous.
This seems to sink in in degrees. Their gazes darken, then their expressions follow suit.
“Damn,” Emrys growls. “I vote to try the fae drugs first.”
15
JASON
I’m a werewolf. I’ve shifted a few times in my life, especially when I was younger, and I’ve gone through every full moon drugged and oftentimes huddled in my bed, waiting for the pull to end. Occasionally I’ve lost the battle and shifted.
It was bad, but nothing like this.
This is fucking insane. It’s as if my bones are being pulled out of my skin, as if my muscles are twisting, my joints breaking. I know the shift has already started, that much is obvious.
All I can do now is try to stop it.
Unauthorized magic spells are forbidden on the school grounds, but everyone turns a blind eye to them. Usually, they are small things, little tricks, mostly demonblood hexes.
An unauthorized shift is a crime. If the beast seems out of control, one has the right to put the animal down.
And that’s the least of my worries.
Losing control is my nightmare. Not finding the way back to human form is what I dread the most—losing my thoughts, my memories. My purpose. My vengeance. That’s all I live for. Without it, I might as well lie down and wait to die.
No. Dammit. I’m not letting this win. I feel the earth under my knees and hands, sharp pebbles cutting into my skin, smell the grass and the more distant scent of the lake, the sharp spicy scents of the other boys—the scent of magic—andher.
Lilies and roses, cream and sugar. She smells like a cake, like a bunch of flowers, like everything I want and crave.
“Jax…” Her hand lands on my shoulder, slides up my neck.
Relief swamps me as the pain lessens, allowing me a deeper breath. I fill my lungs with sweet air. “My meds,” I manage.
“Right. Let’s get him to his room,” Emrys says, his voice strained.
As they carry me between them, I realize they aren’t faring that well, either, staggering and grunting. This surge is different from the previous ones, stronger. Guess Ashton’s theory has merits.
Disconnected from her touch, I struggle with the magic once more, the pain returning full force. As they carry me down the path and up the stairs to my room, every step, every movement rattles me until I can’t keep my groans quiet.
This fucking hurts.
“Mia…” I whisper, feeling phantom touches on my chest, my face. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here,” she says, hurrying to keep up with us as we reach my door.
“Need…”
But I’m lowered to my feet to open my door.
“You should reset your wards to allow us entrance,” Ashton says. “For cases like this. I thought we went over this.”
