Page 74 of Rejected Exile

It's no place for a female like Delilah.

Kieran stumbles, and I put an arm under him, trying to keep him upright even as I keep a watchful eye on Delilah. "What's wrong? Why'd you stop? Don't stop..."

Ambrosia doesn't listen to his slurred mumblings. She has her eyes on the female werewolf in the distance. So do others in the coven—someone lights a fire torch, and I spot Marcellus, Helene, and... Demetri.

Their leader.

He takes a step out of the darkness towards Delilah, and I don't like the way he looks at her.

"Sober up," I murmur to Kieran, jerking him upright and pinching his arm,hard."You've gone and done it now, you dumbass. This time it isn't just your favorite lady vampire who came for the feeding."

His eyes narrow, and he freezes. "Is that?"

"Lord Paleface himself, yes. Get it together—because if they try to eventouchher, I'm leaving your ass out here in the cold to fend for yourself."

Kieran seems to come together at my words, even as his eyes track Ambrosia, who has abandoned him to stalk towards Delilah and the rest of the coven.

"I won't let them hurt her," he says, even though in his current state he probably couldn't hurt an actual bunny. "Let me just... get the ol' wolfie wolf out. He's not really responding right now."

"Move."

I jerk Kieran forward, ignoring his mutterings, which are half-out of it and half-furious at the mere thought of the vampires touching Delilah. So far they don't seem to be getting too close to her, but I don't like the way Demetri is staring in her direction, or how Ambrosia comes to stand beside him and join him in naked fascination.

Normally, those two don't get along. If disparate members of the coven are starting to plot together on the same side of things, we're in trouble. The pack can barely hold its own against vamps in disarray—as soon as every one of them decides to do something about our weakness, we're over.

I need another alpha to come in and take the reins before that happens. As much as it pains me to see the Glass Pack be dissolved, especially now that I've met a wild female worthy of the name, it's the only way to stop them. Each predatory flicker of their eyes on Delilah, every step they take towards her, is a sign of just how precarious a situation we're in.

They're only supposed to drink from wolves who consent to it, or hunt us when we're out hunting our prey. Not stalk us in the darkness so close to the edge of the woods like this.

Once we're close enough, I can hear Demetri's words, his tone silken and sensual. "You must understand, it's been so long since we've scented one of your kind. Ours is only a curiosity. A simple drop or two would confirm it."

"I'm not letting you drink my blood." Delilah's tone sounds aggravated, and I tense in preparation to get her back. "I don't need you totasteme. That's ridiculous."

Ambrosia murmurs, "It wouldn't hurt one bit, my darling. Only a needle's prick and..." She squeezes her index finger. "A simple confirmation is all."

"You've given me no reason to give you something like that." Kieran straightens at my side as Delilah backs up a step, clearly unnerved by the four vampires in front of her. "I don't need aconfirmationthat I'm a—whatever-you-called it. I'm not falling for your little tricks."

There's a growl. At first, I think it's coming from my chest. Belatedly I realize that it's rumbling from Kieran's—and as he rips away from me, only stumbling a little, I reach for him in vain.

Because it's no longer Kieran in charge as he launches himself towards the vampires, his muscles rippling and skin tearing, clothes fading and eyes changing color.

This time, the wolf inside him is in charge. Not the one he shifts into, briefly, on purpose from time to time. But the wolf who was born on that terrible day Tara bled out in front of him. The one who sometimes wakes in the middle of the night, standing on a bed torn to shreds by wild claws, a blood-curdling howl leaving its throat.

The wolf that doesn't bother to control himself at all.

Kieran's wolf is a deep, rich grey with thick fur at the throat and yellow eyes. His paws hit the ground without a stumble, and he runs across the clearing without any sign that the venom has weakened it at all.

As it reaches Demetri, I reach inside for my wolf as well. Mine is slow to waken. He slumbers, deep under a blanket of sleep, ever since the day the mate bond was broken between me and a girl who would've otherwise been doomed.

My eyes jerk to Delilah, standing stock-still in the middle of the clearing. Kieran's wolf leaps on Demetri—and the vampire effortlessly, easily, throws him back. His grey, furry body hits a thick tree trunk, and a sickening crunch follows. I wince at the yelp that tears from his throat.

Delilah cringes back.

The wolf in me wakens in a flurry.

My stupid, slow, human feet shift first. The wolf surges through my blood and rips from my muscles. His snarl twists my lips as long fangs burst from my gums. At a supercharged pace, I hit the ground on four feet and sprint into the clearing.

The first thing I do is slide between Delilah and the vampires, my hackles up, every bit of fur on my body standing on end.

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