Page 73 of Bitten Shifter

He grips my face, his fingers crushing my jaw, and slips the blade between my lips, cold steel clinking against my teeth, prying them apart. Pain blooms as it nicks my tongue and cheek, flooding my mouth with the metallic tang of blood.

I groan, defying him, as he pours the gritty, pungent contents into my mouth.

The blade is gone, but before I can spit the wolfsbane out, he clamps his hand over my mouth and I can’t breathe as he pinches my nose shut. “Swallow, bitch,” he hisses.

I jerk my head violently, refusing to give in, but my lungs scream for air. The world tilts, darkness creeping in at the edges. Panic bubbles up as my body’s need for oxygen takes over. I gasp, desperate for relief, and wolfsbane scorches its way down my throat.

Its toxic burn seeps through me, setting my insides ablaze.

I choke and splutter, agony gripping my throat.

Chatty steps back with a triumphant sneer. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re done for. Nature’s fixing the mistake.” His laughter echoes in the warehouse as he turns to leave, footsteps fading.

Pain rips through me in waves.

The thing inside me is no longer quiet.

She is awake—angry, raw, fighting back. I feel her clawing, tearing at my insides, determined to protect us both.

My ribs crack. The sharp snap of bone is drowned by my ragged breathing. A broken whine rises from my throat, raw and agonised. Control slips through my fingers. My senses overflow, my body convulsing in a brutal, unstoppable rhythm.

Whenever I imagined my first shift, I assumed Merrick or Riker would guide me. I thought I’d be safe. Instead, I’m chained, alone, in agony.

My body spasms. Each snapped bone reforms, reshaping beneath my skin. It’s excruciating, torture, but the thing’s voice murmurs in my mind.We’ve got this. I’ve got you. Let go.She is calm, reassuring, and I trust her.

So I surrender, letting her—another side of me, not some murderous alien thing—take over. She is me.

Fur erupts along my skin, twisting and stretching me into something new. Something wild.

The cuffs strain and groan. Broken bones in my wrists narrow just enough for my paw to slip through. The other follows, the handcuffs and chains clattering to the floor.

I slump forward, trembling. My breath is ragged, and my chest heaves. This new form feels alien yet familiar, powerful yet fragile. My paws—brown fur streaked with white—quiver as I try, and fail, to stand.

A deep, feral roar cuts through the pounding of my heart.

My ears swivel toward the sound, and I lift my head weakly.

The warehouse door is torn from its hinges, crashing to the floor. A towering figure in half-shifted warrior form charges in, snarling, his glowing eyes focusing on me.

Merrick.

He came for me.

His gaze meets mine, and his snarl eases into a soft whine. The beast shrinks away as his fur recedes and human skin returns. He falls to his knees beside me.

“Lark.” His hands find me straightaway, stroking my damp fur, his touch steady and comforting. “You are a beautiful wolf,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

A wolf.Wow. Fantastic. I was secretly hoping for a dragon—or a unicorn.

“Why—why, Lark,” he says, voice unsteady, “didn’t you use the ward on yourself? Why protect me?”

Tears prick my eyes, hot and unexpected, as I grasp the reality of what I am—what we are. My tongue lolls out, and I weakly lick his wrist to reassure him I’m still here.

Still his mate.

“Fuck, they gave her wolfsbane,” Riker growls from behind him.

“I’m so sorry, little mate. I will find whoever did this to you and rip them apart,” Merrick murmurs, his hands trembling as he cradles my head. He lowers his forehead to mine. “The one person who is truly mine, and I failed you. I should have protected you better. Forgive me.”