Page 34 of Wolf Chosen

Chapter Seventeen

Taylor

Liam’s growl vibrates through me. It's a sound I've never heard from him before, raw and savage, devoid of any human warmth. I jerk back, my heart slamming against my ribs as chills race down my spine.

Something's wrong.

Something's terribly, horribly wrong.

Liam's eyes, usually so warm and loving, are cold and flat. The rich amber hue has been swallowed by a feral glow, the pupils contracted to mere pinpricks. There's no recognition in those eyes.

“Liam?” My throat closes over. “Liam, what's happening? What's wrong?”

He doesn't respond. Doesn't even seem to hear me. A shudder runs through his body. I watch in horrified fascination as fur sprouts along his arms and disappears again.

Oh God. He's fighting his shift.

“Liam, please,” I whisper, my hands held out in a placating gesture. “It's me. It's Taylor. You know me. You love me.”

For a moment, I think I see a flicker of recognition in those feral depths. A spark of my mate fighting his way to the surface but it's gone as quickly as it came. Liam shudders, his bones cracking and realigning. Fur erupts along his limbs, a dense coat of gray and white speckles that ripples with each convulsion of his muscles. His face elongates into a muzzle, teeth lengthening into wickedly sharp fangs that gleam in the low light.

In a moment, a massive gray wolf towers over me but Liam is nowhere to be found in this wolf. Its eyes, once a warm amber that sparkled with love are now flat and wild. There's no recognition, no sign of Liam’s spirit. There is only hunger, a savagery that sends icy tendrils of fear curling through my veins.

This isn't Liam.

Not anymore.

A low growl rumbles up from the wolf's chest, its lips peeling back from its fangs in a snarl that makes every hair on my body stand on end. It takes a step forward, huge paw sinking into the mattress, muscles coiled and ready to spring. I know, with a certainty that settles like a leaden weight in my gut, that the creature before me is no longer my mate, my love.

It's a predator.

And I am its prey.

I slowly slide off the mattress and onto the carpet, but the wolf is between me and the door. There’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped. “Liam, don't do this. Come back to me. Fight this. You're stronger than this, I know you are.”

I fight panicked breaths as the wolf lines me up. With a roar that shakes the very walls, the beast lunges. I have a split second to register the flash of teeth, the gleam of razor-sharp claws and then pain explodes through me, white-hot and blinding.

I scream as claws rake down my arm, tearing through skin and muscle. The wounds are deep. Deep enough to cut to my bone. Blood wells in the wounds, hot and slick, the coppery scent filling the air.

The wolf bears me to the ground, its weight crushing the air from my lungs. I thrash and struggle, but I’m fighting against a mountain. Fangs close around my throat. I still, hardly daring to breathe as hot breath gusts over my face.

This is it. This is how I die, torn apart by the man I love. There's a terrible sort of irony in that, a cosmic joke at my expense. I’ve been saved from a terminal disease only to be killed by the man who saved me.

I don’t want my last thoughts to be of the wolf who is going to tear my throat out. I want to see Liam in my mind. The man I’ve fallen in love with. Desperation claws at my insides, squeezing my heart so hard it hurts. I reach out through the bond to feel a scrap of Liam again but there's nothing to grasp. Only a yawning void where once Liam's essence burned bright and warm.

There’s nothing there. Nothing left.

The bond is gone. Severed. Liam is...gone.

A keening wail builds behind my breastbone, but I choke it back. My hand trembles as I lift my arm, my fingers sinking into the fur at the wolf's nape. I have to think of the animal as a wolf. That’s all there is.

“I love you, Liam.” The words catch in my throat.

I do love him. With everything in my heart. He isn’t to blame for this. Nothing about this is his fault. The wolf isn’t him. He’s a wild beast acting on ancient instincts, poisoned by Rowan. This is Rowan’s doing.

The wolf snarls, a deep rumble that vibrates through my bones. Its jaws begin to squeeze tighter and its teeth pop through my skin. Blood gushes from the wounds as searing agony rockets through me. The coppery tang of it fills my nostrils, sharp and acrid. My vision swims, the room tilting and spinning.

I cling to the image of Liam’s face as darkness descends. I picture the warm amber of his eyes. The way they would crinkle at the corners when he laughed. The curve of his full lips, so soft and tender when they brushed against my own, yet capable of stretching into a grin that never failed to make my heart skip. The strong, chiseled lines of his jaw. The way his brow would furrow when he was deep in thought. He's a good man. A kind, gentle soul. A man who became a doctor to treat people who are sick.

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