Page 62 of Bitten Shifter

I stab at my spaghetti. “I can’t stand him. He is bossy and overbearing. He put me through hell this morning. But…” My inner voice finishes the thought.He is also infuriatingly handsome, surprisingly kind, and makes my heart race. No one’s ever fought for me like that before.

“But?” Riker prompts. When I don’t answer, he continues. “He’s also the one who risked his life to save you. When he realised you were in danger the night you were bitten, he came for you without waiting for backup.”

I sigh, dropping my fork. My fingers trace the scars twisting around my arm. “I didn’t know that. He saved my life, and I’m grateful—so grateful—but it doesn’t erase what happened. He lied to me.”

He also shielded me from both Dove and Paul.

Riker leans back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ve no idea.” The truth is heavier than any glib reply. “It’s only been three months since my marriage fell apart.” How can I trust anyone again—let alone a man like Merrick? It’s madness. I wouldn't survive the fallout.

Riker says nothing, watching me wrestle with my thoughts.

I twist the spaghetti around my fork, my gaze drifting across the mess hall at my fellow trainees—many look to be in their early twenties—young and brimming with potential yet dealing with the same life-altering event. Some were born shifters, predestined from their first breath—while others were chosen or volunteered to be turned.

I’d expect more nerves, more hesitation. Their faces betray no fear; there’s no sign of the enormity of their situation—just grim determination and, for some, a competitive spark. Whether born or bitten, they all share the same resolve. The same confidence.

They come from different ethnic backgrounds, different upbringings, yet they are bound by that odd strand of junk DNA setting them apart from the rest of humanity. It’s unsettling. Overwhelming. They have accepted their place here long before they arrived. I haven’t.Will I ever?

I can’t quiet the little voice in my head insisting I don’t belong.

A loud crash yanks my attention to another table. Alice’s tray hits the floor, food scattering everywhere. She stares blankly ahead, her big blue eyes wide with shock, her face pale. Then, without a sound, she crumples, collapsing off her chair and hitting the ground with a sickeningthud.

Her body convulses violently.

Oh my God, no.

Riker gently grips my arm, holding me back as I instinctively move to help. Shouts ripple through the room as staff rush forward. Trainees scatter—some stepping back, others frozen. A staff member clears the food debris while another carefully lays Alice flat. Someone murmurs, “She is not breathing,” and panic seizes the entire room.

“Medic!”

There is nothing I can do.

Within seconds, a medical team dashes in. One medic begins chest compressions while another readies a defibrillator. Alice’s jumper is torn open, her pale chest exposed as they attach electrodes.

“Clear!” the medic shouts, and Alice’s body jerks under the electric shock.

I clasp my hands, silently pleading for her to come back. “Don’t they have a med mage?” I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away from the frantic scene. “Please, please, Alice, breathe.”

The medics work tirelessly, shocking her repeatedly, but her small frame remains unresponsive. At last, the lead medic shakes his head and says quietly, “She is gone.”

Alice’s arm flops to the side, revealing a patch of fur on her wrist. Her hand is half-shifted, the beginnings of claws visible.

This is exactly what Merrick was afraid of. He worried this might happen.

Chapter Twenty-Five

After watchingAlice die in the mess hall, I abandoned my food. Hunger felt like a distant concept. Back in my room, I freak out and then spent hours poring over the books describing the changes ahead—but so much of it does not apply to me, because I’m different.

Alice’s cupcake sits innocently on the side, mocking me.

Sad, edgy, and restless, I knock on Riker’s door, but there’s no answer. Guilt prickles at me. After what happened today, should I really be wandering about without my bodyguard? Still, this is a secure base, not some unpredictable city street.

Besides, the idea of running into that kid and his cronies does not bother me anymore. I’m too numb to care. Knowing these trainees could die is entirely different from seeing it happen right in front of me.

Oh God, I’m so sorry, Alice.

In the small kitchen, I find an instant coffee stash. I make myself a cup and take it outside, the mug warm in my hands. Night has fallen.

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