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She bolts, sprinting for the hole at the back of the fence. I race to stop the wolf from reaching her, and I hurl myself with inhuman speed at it, where we roll into a tussle. I slash my knife at the creature’s throat, its claws shredding through my leather jacket and into my back.
“Agh!” I scream. The pain is excruciating, but it’s just bad enough to send a shot of adrenaline through my veins. I jab, then, and feel viscous blood pour over my hand as I get to my feet, something strange prickling at the base of my skull.
It feels like a transformation.
But that can’t be.
I scent Sunshine on the air, my gaze snapping to find her running as fast as she can across the field south of us. I bow my head and break into a run, my instinct to catch her stronger even than my desire to survive. Her hair has come undone, brushing in pretty, honey-colored curls against her shoulders her back, and I follow the glow of her golden-brown hair like a dog might chase a rabbit on a track.
I only see the shape of the other wolf just before it plows into her, sending her to the ground. I snarl, and that’s when I’m certain my body is transforming, every limb feeling like it’s breaking as it’s molded into something new. I feel the spines split through my back and shoulder-blades, bony spikes that can shred or even kill. Talons break through my knuckles, and my teeth elongate until I’m certain I won’t be able to speak.
I don’t need to speak.
Not for what I’m about to do.
I hurtle into the wolf standing over Sunshine, the other Lycan letting out a yelp. It rounds on me fast, but I’ve already put myself between the enemy and my woman. I don’t balk when two other wolves come up to flank the first, knowing in my bones that I will defeat them if it means keeping her safe.
I growl a warning, letting them know they’re about to die.
But they attack anyway.
We fall into a rolling, writhing mass of teeth and claws, the others coming at me one after the other. I grapple with each of them, my claws tearing through flesh left and right. I can feel myself bleeding from wounds all over my body, but I can’t bother to care—all I know is that I have to protect this girl.
And then I’ll catch her for myself.
CHAPTER FOUR
?
CHARLOTTE
I can’t stand here and watch this, but I don’t feel like I have a choice. The last time I ran, it caught the wolves’ attention, and it got us here as a result.
So I stay almost entirely still, backing slowly away as I watch the Lycans rip each other to shreds.
I’ve never seen one in real life—I’ve never seen much of anything, I suppose. Gran always told me to stay the hell away from creatures like this, telling me that they were more animal than person. I grew up on scary stories about lycanthropes, and when I was a kid, Gran liked to spook me with warnings about lycans taking little girls away.
But this is more brutal than anything I could have imagined. The thing I knew as Elijah has turned into something of silver fur and violent spines and moonlight eyes, and he rips the enemy Lycans to ribbons, piece by piece.
And then he turns on me.
“Run away, Sunshine,” he growls, his words garbled by too-long teeth.
I don’t wait to find out why he wants me to flee.
I grip my grandmother’s violin case in my hand as I sprint toward the woods, my heart pounding so loud in my ears that I can’t hear anything else. Red light filters through the trees overhead, illuminating the leaves on the forest floor in a sickening pink. I stumble a couple times, but I just keep going, even as my shoulders start to ache from the weight of my oversized backpack. I think I rolled my ankle at some point back in the suburbs, and it starts to sting, pangs of pain racing from my foot to my knee.
I run for what feels like well over an hour, though it might only be minutes. When I finally pause to breathe, it’s completely quiet around me, save for the snap of a single twig to my left.
I whip my head toward the sound, quieting my panting until there’s no sound at all. But I’m certain I heard something, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as I stare into the deep darkness of the brush.
“Hi, Sunshine.”
The voice is deep, growling, and animalistic, his tongue still grappling with the newly sharp teeth in his jaws. My blood goes cold and I gulp, my eyes wide.
“Elijah, is that you?” I whisper.
“Pretty girls shouldn’t roam the woods at night,” the voice growls, almost teasing. “Or something big and scary mighteat them.”
