Page 27 of Wolf Chosen

Shock ripples across his face as his head snaps toward me. Those cold, dead eyes widen imperceptibly.

I've done it now.

I brace myself for the retribution I know is coming. For the pain I'm sure he'll rain down upon me. I don't let go. I can't.

“Please,” I rasp, the word scraping my raw throat. “He needs water. Just give him—”

The rest of my plea dies on my tongue as, instead, Lunarith's words spill from my lips. My ring flares with blinding heat, the metal searing against my skin. Terrifying power thrums through my veins, ancient and immense, raising the fine hairs on my arms.

Rowan's reaction is instantaneous and terrifying. His entire body goes rigid, muscles seizing hard enough to lock him into a statue. His eyes roll back in their sockets, the irises disappearing behind a film of white, stark and unseeing. His chest is still, no breath passing his parted lips. Even the pulse at his throat has gone silent.

It's unnatural. Eerie. As if I'm staring at a wax figure. But this is no illusion. No trick of the light. Whatever I've done...it's holding him immobile. Helpless. There’s no telling how long this will last. Seconds? Minutes? But I know one thing with unshakable certainty.

I shake off my shock.

We have to act now.

We have to run.

Chapter Fourteen

Taylor

“Liam,” I gasp, dropping to my knees beside him. “We have to go. Can you stand?”

A grunt is his only answer as he struggles to push upright. I wedge my shoulder under his arm, taking as much of his weight as I can. Together, we stagger toward the open cell door.

I pause just long enough to shove the door shut, leaving Rowan inside. The sound of iron clanging echoes in the enclosed space, lending me a sense of bleak satisfaction. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Liam leans heavily against me as we stumble down the corridor, each step an exercise in agony. He trembles as he weaves unsteady on his feet. His skin is fever-hot against me. His head bobs, as though it’s too hard to stay awake.

“Just a little bit further. You can do it,” I say.

I pray he can stay conscious. A desperate mantra circles through my head. If he can’t I don’t know what I’ll do because he’s too big to pick up and carry.

We emerge from the corridor into the larger room, and bile surges up my throat when my eyes lock onto the iron chair bolted to the center of the floor, metal arms and seat stained red. Blood—Liam's blood—is splattered across the arms, pooled on the stone beneath.

White-hot rage sears through me, so intense it holds me captive. In that moment, I want nothing more than to watch this whole place burn to ash with Rowan trapped inside. To make him suffer a fraction of the torment he's inflicted. We don't have that kind of time. We need to put as much distance between us and this nightmare as possible.

“Taylor,” Liam rasps, his voice a thready whisper. “The door...”

I nod, half-carrying him across the room. Desperation lends me strength and I wrench it open with a low cry.

Sunlight spills across the threshold, blinding after the gloom of our prison. I gulp in huge lungfuls of crisp, clean air, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

We've made it outside. But we're not safe yet.

Liam sags against me, his breaths coming in short, sharp pants. “I need...to shift,” he grits out, sweat beading his brow. “Faster...”

I help lower him to the ground, my heart clenching as I take in the extent of his injuries. Goddess, I don't know if he has the strength to shift. If his broken body can take any more strain.

What choice do we have?

“After I shift, get on my back,” he says. I only nod because I don’t want to make him carry me. Not in his state, but I know even injured, he will be faster than my two feet.

I watch, tears streaming down my face, as Liam's form begins to ripple and change. The process is slower than before, more painful. Bones crack and reform, agonized whimpers tearing from his throat. It seems to take an eternity before the massive gray wolf is standing before me.

But something...something is wrong.

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