Page 23 of Barely Breathing

As if to prove his point, another howl pierces the night. It’s answered by others, creating a savage harmony that creates goosebumps on my skin. Through a gap in the fence slats, I see fires burning in old oil drums. Violent figures move around them, some human, some wolf. Several fights break out but are short-lived as they end in laughter.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but seeing so many of them, knowing any one of them could tear me apart, makes me want to run.

And here I thought running shoes were going to make a difference.

“Welcome to the Pack,” Costin says softly. Before he opens the gate, he turns to me, pressing me against the fence. His body shields me from the street view, and for a moment, the howls and music fade away. “Remember who you belong to in there.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I whisper, but my body betrays me, leaning slightly toward his in invitation. The air is charged between us, and I’m achingly aware of every point our bodies touch. Even through my anger, I can’t deny the primal pull.

He cups my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Don’t you?”

The kiss that follows is fierce, a claim that leaves me breathless. My legs spread as he lifts me off the ground, anchoring my hips in his strong hands. The wall is cold against my back, but his body burnsagainst mine despite his vampiric nature. Our clothes force a chastity I don’t feel, becoming an exquisite torture as his hands grip me possessively. The press of his arousal against me only hints at what we both want to happen. Desire moves like hot lava through me, pulsing and all-consuming. I should push him away. We’re outside a werewolf den, for goodness’ sake! Instead, I find myself pulling him closer, craving more of that dangerous passion.

A fang nicks my tender lip, filling my mouth with blood. When he pulls away, his eyes have a crimson shine. My thumping heart wants to come out of my chest. I see my blood staining his bottom lip as he licks slowly.

“Mm.” His pleasure moan sounds like sex.

A series of howls echo from the courtyard beyond, jolting me back to awareness. My heart hammers violently at the idea of where we’re at, of the danger just beyond this flimsy barrier. I don’t want to stop. Not just yet.

“Say the word and I’ll take you far away from here,” he offers.

It’s tempting. Oh, so tempting.

“Costin, I can’t,” I refuse.

He lets my legs fall back to the ground. This is not the place. I’m grateful the gate supports my back and keeps me upright.

“Ready?” He doesn’t wait for my nod before he pushes the gate open as if the lock doesn’t matter. “Try not to stare. Wolves hate that.”

Chapter

Seven

Don’t stare.

That advice becomes impossible the moment we step inside. The chaos of the werewolf courtyard is a nightmare that has come to life. Heavy metal music pounds through my bones, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Fallen bricks and rusted scaffolding create a maze-like enclosure that feels more like the opening of a deathtrap than a party space. Every exit I spot disappears in the shifting shadows behind the fierce creatures who party here.

The smell of meat and beer mingles with the hint of wet dog. A pile of discarded, broken liquor bottles is next to a wall. I see a flash seconds before I hear glass shattering as another joins its forgotten friends.

I can’t see the moon, but I know it’s there by the color of the light. Bodies writhe around the burning oil drums, human, wolf, and some caught in that horrifying in between where bones crack and reshape, where skin splits to let fur push through, where human screams turn to animal howls.

Costin’s hand rests possessively on my lower back, his touch both steadying and electric. My lips still tingle from our kiss, and I can taste the faint copper of my blood where his fang nicked me. The puncture is raw, but the bleeding has slowed. Even here, surrounded by danger, part of me wants him to do it again. By the way his fingers flex against me, I know he can still taste my blood too.

Blood and moonlight.

The words echo in my head like a warning. Draakmar’s consciousness presses against mine with increasing urgency. The dragon knows something I don’t—something about Costin, about the wolves, about all of this. But, like trying to remember a dream, the knowledge slips away whenever I reach for it.

A woman dances topless on a metal platform, her body covered in tribal tattoos that travel like living things over her skin as she moves. When she throws back her head to howl, I watch in horror as her jaw dislocates. Teeth elongate past her chin in a grotesque display of partial transformation. Thecrowd cheers, the sound primal and hungry, and I realize not all the meat is being cooked as some of them are feeding on raw meat torn from carcasses.

I lean into Costin. “Is this a celebration?”

“No. This debauchery is every night.” Costin’s touch makes me shiver despite the heat from the fires. His fingers possessively dig into my hip as he jerks me closer. “Stay close. The Alpha’s protection will only extend so far, and some of them look ready for a hunt. If something happens to us, he’ll claim my presence provoked it.”

I notice how some of the wolves watch the vampire in their midst, their golden eyes glowing with barely contained animosity.

A motorcycle revs before tearing through the courtyard, nearly clipping several dancers. The half-naked woman leaps off the metal platform with inhuman grace, her spine cracking and reforming mid-air as she tackles the driver. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and partial transformations, blood and fur flying as claws emerge. The riderless motorcycle careens into a wall, exploding in a shower of sparks that illuminates dozens of glowing eyes in the darkness beyond.

I grab Costin’s arm as the driver and the dancer start brawling in earnest. I press into him, trying to get him to walk another way. He doesn’t obey.Instead, he brushes my fingers off and tries to step in front of me. I don’t let him.

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