Page 26 of The Dire Legacy

“I’ll grab the other leg.” Gray eyes calmly reaches behind himself and drags out the severed appendage lying on the floor.

“Her too?” The deep rumble from the furry chest vibrates into my bones.

Sweet baby Jesus, the half-breed can talk.

“Not yet.” My rescuer is staring so intensely I can feel the weight of it hovering on my skin.

Does that mean theymighteat me? Why is a human running with one of the dogs? Are there more?

Question and no answers. I feel like I skydived from the frying pan into a fire.

With a low growl, the beast grabs the body and leg like they’re weightless and disappears.

“Can I go?” My heart is pounding in my ears. But, it’s almost thrilling. This is different from the lab. No tubes hang out of my arms. And my body isn’t being stripped for parts.

The tantalizing lure of freedom is intoxicating. This is the closest I’ve ever been.

I won’t let anyone stand in my way.

“Where are you headed?” As he straightens, he just gets taller and taller. All I can see is his crotch and his beard.

Not a bad view, I suppose.

A leather gloved hand reaches down, palm side up as he watches me.

Yea, okay, fine.

They’re worn smooth enough my fingers slide into his hand easily.

In an instant, I’m on my feet and standing inches away from a broad chest covered in a dark blue tee shirt.

Close enough to smell him. Earth and something else. Sweet, like almonds.

Interesting.

I resist the urge to lick him. I’m not sure why, but I want to see if he tastes like them.

Or, maybe if his nuts taste like nuts.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“You have blood on your head, is there a wound?” He leans closer, his nose above my forehead as he peers across my scalp.

My little buzz cut won’t hide an injury, but my fingers fly up just in case and sweep over my skull.

He could be watching a scratch heal. My secret would be out.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.” Reflexively, I reach out to touch his shoulder and try to step past him.

He locks my wrist in a death grip before my fingers can brush the fabric of his sleeve. “Please do not touch me.” His voice drops to a growl and his chin tilts down so he can meet my eyes with his.

Shit. What just moved on the side of his head?

His ears. They’re pointy and pinned low.

Like a dog.

“Well, damn. Are you one of them?” I am too, but there’s no way I’ll tell him.

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