Page 30 of Witch's Promise

Sean's mind raced, weighing options. He knew from experience how dangerous a partially shifted werewolf could be. All that raw power, with none of the control. If the Vargr lost his grip, things could get ugly fast.

But maybe that was exactly what Sean needed.

"Come on, doggy," Sean taunted, his voice muffled by the mask but no less provoking. "Stop pussyfooting around and show me what you've really got."

The Vargr's eyes flashed, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. "You don't know what you're asking for, little man."

Sean spread his arms wide, inviting attack. "Try me."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Sean saw it, the shift in the Vargr's stance, the way his muscles bunched and coiled. Here it comes.

The Vargr lunged, faster than Sean had thought possible. But this time, Sean was ready. As the big man closed in, Sean reached out with more than just his hands. He called on a power he'd sworn never to use again, feeling the familiar cold rush as the shadows around them responded to his will.

With a flick of his finger, tendrils of darkness shot out, wrapping around the Vargr's legs and yanking him to the ground. The big man hit the mat hard, confusion and anger warring on his face.

"What the fuck?" the Vargr snarled, struggling against his shadowy bonds.

Sean felt a twinge of shame at using his abilities. It felt like cheating, like falling back into old, dangerous habits. But he pushed the feeling aside. Sometimes, you had to fight fire with fire.

Or in this case, monster with monster.

The Vargr's confusion didn't last long. As understanding dawned in those amber eyes, Sean saw something else replace it. Rage. Pure, animalistic fury.

"You want the wolf?" the Vargr growled, his voice deepening, changing. "Fine. You got him."

The transformation was both beautiful and terrifying to behold. Bones cracked and reformed, muscles bulged and shifted. In a matter of seconds, where a man had been, now stood a massive wolf, easily twice the size of any natural canine.

With a snap of powerful jaws, the wolf bit through the shadow bonds like they were made of paper. Sean barely had time to brace himself before several hundred pounds of pissed-off werewolf slammed into him.

They went down in a tangle of limbs, Sean desperately trying to keep those snapping jaws away from his throat. He could feel the wolf's hot breath on his face, could smell the rank odor of its fur. This close, the beast's eyes were terrifyingly intelligent, filled with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

Sean's mind raced, searching for a way out. He couldn't overpower the wolf, that much was clear. And his shadow tricks weren't going to cut it against pure, primal strength.

As those razor-sharp teeth inched closer to his jugular, Sean made a decision. Fuck pride. Fuck fair play. He wasn't ready to die in this shithole cage, not when he still had so much to atone for.

Gathering every ounce of power he had left, Sean reached out to the shadows once more. But this time, he didn't try to restrainthe wolf. Instead, he wove the darkness into a shroud, wrapping it around himself like armor.

The wolf's teeth met resistance, confusion replacing the triumphant gleam in its eyes. Sean used that moment of hesitation to strike, driving his knee up into the beast's soft underbelly.

The wolf yelped, more in surprise than pain, but it was enough. Sean managed to wiggle free, scrambling to his feet as the wolf shook off the blow.

For a moment, they faced each other across the cage. Man and beast, shadow and fury. The crowd's roars faded to a dull hum in Sean's ears, everything narrowing down to this moment, this opponent.

As the wolf tensed, preparing for another charge, Sean felt a strange calm settle over him. This was it. Do or die time. All his training, all his power, all his guilt and shame and desperate need for redemption, it all came down to this.

The wolf lunged. Sean stood his ground.

Time seemed to slow as the massive beast hurtled towards him, jaws open wide, saliva flying. In that moment, Sean felt a strange calm wash over him. This was it. Do or die time. All his training, all his guilt, all his desperate need for redemption, it all came down to this.

Sean moved, his body operating on pure instinct. He ducked under those snapping jaws, feeling the rush of air as they closed on empty space. His fist connected with the wolf's ribs, a solid blow that would have dropped a normal opponent. But this was no normal fight.

The wolf's claws raked across Sean's chest, tearing through his shirt and leaving fire in their wake. Sean bit back a scream, using the pain to fuel his next attack. They traded blows, man and beast locked in a brutal dance of survival.

Blood dripped into Sean's left eye, half-blinding him. His ribs screamed in protest with every movement, and he was pretty sure at least two of his fingers were broken. But he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Because stopping meant dying, and he wasn't ready to check out just yet. Not when he still had so much to atone for.

"Fuck," Sean grunted as the wolf's massive paw caught him across the face, sending him stumbling. His left eye was definitely out of commission now, swollen shut and throbbing in time with his racing heart.

Katelyn was going to kill him. If she could see him now, battered and bleeding in this godforsaken cage, she'd probably finish what the wolf started. The thought almost made him laugh. Almost.

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