Page 18 of Wolf Chosen

This can't be happening. We're going to die here, tortured and slain by a raving lunatic for reasons that cannot possibly be grounded in reality.

“Oh, you’ll definitely be tortured.” Rowan's smile widens and I realize I spoke out loud in my terror. “And I also see you need to fully understand your situation.” He turns his attention to Liam who clutches the bars with talons the length of my hand. “Show her who you really are, wolf.”

For an endless, breathless moment, silence is broken by the harsh rasp of Liam's exertions. Then, he shudders, staggers, contorts.

“No!” The word wrenches from him, but it doesn’t stop his body from warping.

Bones stretch and reshape with a series of pops and crunches. His shirt shreds, as do his jeans. Tatters fly to the ground. Muscles cord and ripple beneath his skin.

A savage snarl rips free from his throat, quickly morphing into a howl of anguished rage as coarse gray fur erupts along his arms, his legs, his entire body. I can only watch in mute, numb horror as the man I'd been so drawn to reforms into a massive wolf glaring at me through glowing eyes.

The scream building in my throat refuses to be voiced, trapped behind a wall of shock and unmitigated terror but there’s no denying the impossible truth right in front of my eyes.

Liam isn’t a man.

He’s a wolf.

Chapter Ten

Taylor

The massive wolf towering over me is unlike anything I've ever seen, a creature ripped straight from nightmares. Its head alone is level with my shoulders, jaws gaping wide to reveal gleaming white fangs that could tear through flesh like tissue paper. Paws the size of dinner plates support a body corded with thick ropes of muscle, power rippling just beneath a thick gray pelt.

This...this is no normal wolf. It is glaring at me through eyes blazing with such intensity that I press back against the unforgiving stone in a futile effort to escape.

I'm shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. My breaths are choppy, random sucks of air too little to fill my lungs. I blink away the black dots creeping in at the edges of my vision.

My boots scuff the ground and my battered brain makes me look at the ground. Rust stains on the bricks mix with the drops of saliva, but I don’t think they’re merely rust.

Rust doesn’t pool in irregular, blood-shaped puddles.

What fresh hell have I landed in?

A chuckle from the far side of the bars has my head whipping up. Rowan stands there, unperturbed by the snarling wolf, and regards me with an air of detached bemusement.

“I'll leave you two lovebirds to get acquainted. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. A host never leaves his guests for too long. I just need to set up a few preparations for my little welcome party,” he chuckles.

An icy splinter of dread lances through me.

He’s certifiable.

I stare at him, uncomprehending. I’d walk past this man in the street and not remember him. He’s forgettable in every way. Except his eyes. Those eyes I’d remember because they’re completely dead. There’s nothing in them. No light. No compassion. I’m nothing more than a bug to him. Less than dirt beneath his feet.

How can he be so terrifying?

I want to beg for mercy. Fall to my knees and sob and plead and lick his boots for him to let us free but then Rowan is turning away, his light steps fading into the darkness of the corridor.

And then I'm alone.

Alone with the man wearing a monster's form. A tremble quakes to life inside me and spreads to my fingers and toes. I brace myself for an attack, for those terrible jaws to lunge and—

The snarling stops. Just like that, the rumble of rage cuts off. The wolf drops onto its belly. It whines softly, a plaintive sound that seems almost...imploring as its tail gives a tentative wag. Then it fixes me with an unmistakable puppy-dog look, and I nearly choke on the hysterical giggle that tries to claw its way free from my throat.

This cannot be happening.

The giggle dies a swift, brutal death as the wolf's form distorts. I stumble back with a startled cry, hand flying to my mouth to stifle the scream building in my throat.

In a matter of heartbeats, the wolf is gone, replaced by the very human—and very naked—Liam. He stretches out a hand, and I can't help the violent flinch that racks my body at the gesture. His hand drops, fingers curling into his palm.

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