Page 39 of Savage Fate

He shucked his shirt as fur sprouted along his shredded, tattooed chest.

Of course he had to have the body of an Adonis.

“Don’t worry, Tate. I’m no stranger to fighting. Iaman alpha, after all.” His grin revealed his sharpening canines. “I can take a few demons. Trust me.”

I’d have to.

He dropped onto all fours, continuing to fully shift into a black wolf with silver fur tipping his ears, tail, and a spot on his chest.

As the three skalae demons approaching me noticed my sword, two stood on their feet and lunged.

Chapter

Twelve

The first skalaewho reached me went straight for my neck, biting at the air as I held him back. Hot, foul saliva dripped on my throat, and I shuddered.

These things weren’t messing around. They really wanted to devour me like a juicy steak.

“I don’t taste that good, fellas.” I elbowed him off and spun as the second skalae tried to take a bite out of my arm, his jagged teeth grazing my skin.

My blade swung through the air and decapitated him. His head knocked into the third one, still skuttling on the ground. His irises burned a deeper shade of crimson as he let out a high-pitched shriek.

I winced and nearly lost my balance as sharp pain lanced through my eardrums.

What the hell? Was he part banshee?

While I recovered from the piercing blast, the first sub-demon charged again. I slammed the tip of the blade into his sternum and then used my talons to rip his head off while he was busy trying to shove my sword out of him.

As the third skalae opened his maw to release another scream, I lunged forward.

We tumbled to the ground, and I forced him to his stomach. My claws sank into his back, black blood spraying my face. Adrenaline coursed through me as I lifted my blade, brought it to his neck, and beheaded him.

His bald, bulbous head rolled into a tree trunk.

My pulse spiked as a ferocious snarl erupted through the woods.

Shit. Saint.

I staggered up and pivoted toward him to help but stopped in my tracks when he spit out a chunk of pale demon flesh. Blood glistened on his muzzle and speckled his paws.

All three skalaes he fought were dead.

“Oh. I guess you’re done.” I wiped the blade on my jeans before using the rune to deactivate it. “No need for my assistance.”

Pops and cracks sounded as Saint shifted back into his human form and stood on his feet. Black blood streaked him, but he seemed perfectly fine.

And perfectly naked.

Beneath the demon grime, colorful tattoos inked his arms and chest. Sharp muscles coiled around his broad frame.

Heat rose into my cheeks, and I forced my gaze to remain on his as humor blossomed across his face.

Do not look down.

“I told you I could handle myself.” He grabbed his jeans from the ground and stuck a leg through each side. “But it’s sweet that you wanted to help.”

My brows slammed down. “I’m not sweet. I just didn’t want to be blamed for—” The wind blew, bringing with it a familiar scent of death and rot. And it wasn’t coming from the sub-demons we just slaughtered.

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