Page 81 of Fated to the Feral Wolf

“When he grabbed my ankle, something inside me just… snapped. One minute, I was a terrified little girl. The next, my body burned, everything hurt, and people were screaming. Somehow, I had fangs and claws, and I was tearing him to shreds. Another man ran in when he heard him screaming and tried to stop me. But my wolf… She tore him up too. The other girls were screaming, there was blood everywhere… but thankfully, the second man left the door open.”

I swallowed hard. The memory of that waiting sliver of moonlight—that ultimate freedom at a time when I was so desperate—was something I would never forget.

“We all ran. More men came and tried to stop us, but I tore every single one of them apart. They shot me four times. She didn’t stop, though. We killed every last man.”

I ducked my face against his chest, the steady thrum of his heart comforting me now, while he was processing. I knew the jig was up. Even among shifters, such bloodthirsty destruction wasn’t okay. Feral wolves who killed humans were put down, no exceptions. He was going to stand up and leave me here any second, but I’d take this last crumb of connection and hold it tightly, even if it was all I had left.

His hands came up to cup the backs of my arms, and I braced myself for him to shove me away. But he didn’t. He skimmed my arms, up my throat, to cup my jaw. Gently, he urged me to look at him. I was so afraid of his judgment, I wanted to resist, but a part of me knew I needed the closure.

But when our gazes clashed, mine terrified and his stormy, he still didn’t let me go.

“Good.”

The word shocked me to my core.

“What?” I spluttered. “I murdered more than twelve men that night. How can you saygood?”

“Those sons of bitches deserved it. Don’t you see? They were kidnapping and sex traffickingchildren. You were eleven, Shay. That was self-defense if ever I heard it. And you saved all those other girls.”

I sat in his lap, too stunned to argue.

That night had been my greatest shame, my recurring nightmare, for fifteen years. I’d never shared the truth of my background with another soul, for the horror. But… good?

He must have seen the disagreement written on my face, because he let out a frustrated growl. “Shay, I know it was traumatic. And you’ve got the right to remember it however you want. But put the Shay oftodayon the outside of that situation. I know it’s hard. But let’s say there was a trafficking ring nearby, and we went to bust it. Would you feel sorry for the motherfuckers hurting little girls? Or would you let your wolf loose and tear them limb from limb?”

“I—” My mouth went dry as my wolf snarled, pushing forward against my control, even as exhausted as she was. “I’d rip their throats out, every last one.” The answer shocked me.

I’d never stepped back and analyzed my trauma, not from an adult perspective. I’d been holding on to it as a scared little girl, too afraid to let anyone know what she’d been through or what she’d done.

But maybe… maybe it was time to give her a break. Younger me was a survivor, and that wasn’t something to be ashamed of. Though, I wasn’t sure I was ready to let it all go. Some part of me… some part of me still felt the stain of those nights. The gore splattered in my fur, dry and crusty and stinking for over a week until I found a stream and finally got brave enough to plunge myself in it. Thinking myself some kind of monster, before I’d known my wolf was part of me. That I wasn’t crazy.

“There’s my girl.” He smiled down at me with pride. “Those fuckers don’t deserve anothersecondof your time. You hear me?They got off easy. If you hadn’t taken them out, I sure as fuck would’ve, and it wouldn’t have been fast.”

He meant it too. My pulse was pounding as I looked up at him, held him. He wasn’t going to leave me.

“But the shifter here. How does he fit into the story?” he asked softly. He stroked both sides of my neck with his thumbs very distractingly.

“Oh,” I murmured, letting my gaze drop back down to his chest. “That’s Brand. He’s… he’s the one who found me after.”

Dirge went still again, listening intently.

“I didn’t understand what had happened to me, not for a while. I didn’tknowwhat a shifter was, let alone that I was one. I thought I’d gone crazy or was some sort of mutant. So, I lived alone in the woods for… a while. A full year, in the end. But one day, a man found me. Spoke to me like he knew I could understand him. And then he shifted right in front of me.”

Dirge chuckled, giving me a little squeeze as I continued.

“It blew my mind that I wasn’t the only one. He told me I was safe, I wasn’t a monster like I’d thought, and he was going to take me to a pack, a place with other wolves where I’d be safe forever. It took us a full week to hike back to civilization, and the whole time, he told me stories, cooked for me over campfires at night. He made me feel cared for, for a little while. Normal.” I swallowed hard, feeling silly.

“But…” Dirge prompted.

“But when we got there, it wasn’thispack. He left me with the Johnson City pack like… a piece of luggage. I felt abandoned all over again, and I haven’t seen him since.” Goddess, I was pathetic. He was going to see that. It wasn’t bad enough that I was a murderer—even when he’d gone feral, he’d never killed anyone—but I was also a sad sack whose only fond childhood memories were of a random alpha who couldn’t be bothered to keep her around.

“Until tonight,” Dirge murmured, understanding dawning.

“Until tonight,” I agreed. “All those memories came rushing back, and I couldn’t bear to face him. So, I just… ran.”

He smiled, hugging me to his chest. “I can understand that.”

We rested for a few moments, and then he said, “Can I ask you something?”

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