Page 42 of Redeemed Wolf

With Silas at the front, we hurried down the narrow hall in a huddle. There were over a dozen figures, mostly men, though a few women, ranging in age, the youngest looking no more than five or six. I slid to the back of the group and did what I could tocorral them. Adrenaline choked me. It was like being penned in on both sides, leaving the group defenseless. I didn’t know what my father had planned for these people, but I had no doubt that he wouldn’t want them walking out the door.

Movement caught my eye, and I saw a guard emerge from the hall behind us, carrying a massive automatic rifle, like something the SWAT team might carry. We locked eyes for a moment, and then he brought his gun’s stock to his shoulder, aiming down the sight. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he shouted.

It was like lighting a firecracker and throwing it into a crowd. Utter panic exploded from the group, all shoving to get away from the threat, the dangerous press of bodies knocking several people off their feet. The young boy at the back screamed in fear, and I scooped him up in my arms, shielding him with my body. I expected pain, braced for it, but instead, I heard a loud roar, followed by the guard’s shout, a wet crunch, then nothing but a gurgle, muffled by the alarm’s klaxon.

When I dared to turn around, I saw the guard lying in a heap on the floor, the blood almost comically red as it pulsed from his torn throat, his eyes already glassy. Standing over him was a man, entirely nude except for the blood that smeared his pale skin. His fingers seemed to be hooked, ending in long claws, and his muscled back heaved with his panting breath.

I wasn’t afraid, though I probably should’ve been. I was standing just ten feet from a killer and his prey, but there was something familiar about the man—the way his long, disheveled hair curled around his ear dug a long-lost memory from the recesses of my mind.

“Isaac?” The name burst past my lips before I could even register who he was. He was my… brother? That couldn’t be right.

The man whipped around, taking a defensive position, but the moment he saw me, he straightened, cocking his head tothe side, almost in confusion. “Carter?” he asked, taking an involuntary step forward.

The alarm cut off without warning, leaving us in a startling quiet that left every other sound somehow magnified. The drip of blood, the whimper of fear from the child still clinging to me.

“There’s no time for a reunion,” Silas shouted. He’d pushed his way through the packed group. He grabbed my hand in a tight grip and dragged me back to the front. I kept a firm hold on the child, barely noticing his weight in my arm.

Silas charged through the security door and out into the front hall. I heard an explosion, the ground shaking again. There was the distant pop of gunfire, but Silas didn’t even hesitate before barreling forward.

I heard that other man, Isaac, shouting for people to keep going from the back. The front door was in sight, and it was shocking to see sunlight through the glass. It felt like some kind of nightmare in here, but outside, it was a beautiful day.

The guard who manned the desk was standing in front of the door gaping out at whatever was transpiring outside, but when he heard our stampede headed his way, he turned to see what the noise was. His eyes widened, in fear or shock. “Wait, stop!” he yelled, grappling with his holster to get his gun free and running toward us, trying to cut us off.

Silas didn’t even slow down, simply lowered his shoulder and bowled him over. Before we could reach the door, an earsplitting bang cut through the air, and Silas let out a grunt, his right leg folding under. He let go of my hand as he dropped.

“Silas!” I shouted, reaching for him.

“Step back, Son.” My dad stepped out from around the corner, a handgun held steadily out in front of him. “Wouldn’t want someone to mistake you for part of this mob. You might accidentally get shot.” His blue eyes were like steel, cold and unfeeling.

“D-Dad?” I stuttered, frozen in shock. I slowly set the child down onto his feet and shuffled him behind me, away from my father. I felt one of the others take him from me. Silas was kneeling, bracing himself with a hand on the floor. He was breathing hard, his pants soaked with blood. “What the fuck? You shot him!”

“Haven’t you figured it out?” he asked, not even sparing me a glance as he closed the distance, aiming his gun at Silas’s head. “Your boyfriend here is a terrorist. He’s been using you to get information about my lab. You didn’t really believe that he had feelings for you, did you?”

“But…” For a fraction of a second, I let his words hit home in my heart. I let myself feel the betrayal, the hurt, let myself believe that I had been so naïve to be taken advantage of. But then that moment passed and logic rushed back in. Silas hadn’t even asked me questions about the lab. He loved me, wanted me. And my father… “Dad, what are all these people doing here? Why do you have humans locked in cells?”

I saw the tic of his jaw as he ground his teeth, drawing a deep breath. “You should’ve kept taking your pills, Carter. Now you’ll have to join the rest.” His upper lip pulled up in a sneer. “As for you, Silas, there’s no coming back from this. I never should’ve trusted you…”

I no longer recognized the man who called himself my dad. There was no sign of the person who had cared for me, told me he loved me, as he raised the gun and pointed it straight at Silas’s forehead.

Silas didn’t flinch, didn’t argue or bargain. He simply rose onto his knees and kept his eyes open and fixed on my father, glaring. My brave, strong alpha. My mate…

The word I’d been hearing repeated in my head for weeks now finally made sense. Silas was more than just a boyfriend, more than some crush or even obsession. He was mymate, and I knewwith absolute certainty that a connection like we had didn’t come more than once in a lifetime.

There was no conscious decision to stop my dad. I saw his finger tightening on the trigger, and I simply exploded into action. That little voice that had been lingering in the back of my head for months was suddenly front and center, taking control—and I let them.

My lips curled back, my mouth suddenly full of fangs. An inhuman snarl snaked its way out of my throat, my vision sharpening, the scent of blood and sweat and fear and anger overwhelming me. It was like being a puppet, with someone else pulling the strings as my body lunged forward, somehow morphing in midair. Joints popped, fur sprouted, and my clothes tore.

I saw the moment my father caught movement from the corner of his eye, his face registering shock as he turned in slow motion toward me, swinging his gun around in an arc. But he was too slow. His human speed was no match for the monster I had become.

My jaw clamped down onto his wrist, my teeth sinking deep into tissue, scraping on bone. Blood flooded my mouth, the copper taste somehow… familiar. He screamed, dropping the gun. He tried to pull his arm free, but I refused to let go. My mind was filled with images, memories, of needles and scalpels, of pain and rage.

This man was not my father.

Whatever shift my body had taken, I couldn’t hold onto it. It was all too much. Too much shock, overwhelming emotions, physical trauma. The voice in my head retreated, vibrating with satisfaction as my father cradled his hand to his chest, skin pale with blood loss. He might not have made it far if I hadn’t collapsed onto the floor, curling into a ball. My clothes were nothing more than scraps of fabric clinging to my limbs.

Silas was suddenly there, hovering over me. “Carter, baby, talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Fuck, oh fuck, what was that? What am I?” I sputtered, shivering. My brain was spiraling down the drain, darkness closing in. I couldn’t breathe.

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