Page 10 of Knot Quite Ready

I look back at Storm, who nods sadly at the phone in her hand. I breathe through my anger and make a mental note to reach out to his mate.

"Wolf, I'd rather our lives end here than cause further harm to my mate. Or anyone else. I pray to the gods that if my life cycle does not end here, my next one is with a human who is worthy. Do what you must. I understand the laws. I just ask you for one thing…"

I nod for him to continue, and he takes a rattling breath, his voice shaking. "Rat shifters are not well respected… most of the smaller shifters aren't. However, having us on your side can be incredibly useful. My mate… she is everything good and pure in the world. Look after her; I know what you have provided for the shifters here. A place to let out our frustrations but still maintain our community strong. She will survive my loss; she is strong, and I know you will give my Stacey purpose. She deserves it."

A tear streams out of his eye at his words, and my throat tightens as my heart starts to ache. I close my eyes briefly in sadness. Our animal counterparts were a part of us, but the damage that can be done when acting selfishly is heartbreaking. Losing your fated mate could have dangerous aftereffects, but if he has faith, then so would I.

"I promise," I say, letting my hand shift and my claws emerge.

He nods, his body going slack as his features soften, and with a quick swipe, I rip out his throat, making his death quick. I lean back on my heels, "May the shifter gods give you peace."

I stand up, and Storm passes me a towel for my hand, her gaze fixed on the security monitors as she watches the fight, not interested in what's going on in the room. Storm is a bit different; this is simply a side effect of duty, but I know that the cogs in her head are turning as she processes the next thing that needs to happen, like the rest of the fight night and how she would help Stacey now that Larry is gone.

I sigh and turn my attention to Colette, who shakes her head sadly, her lavender eyes swimming with emotion. Medical witches, by trade, are more connected to those around them. As such, any death isn't easy for her.

"Absolutely heartbreaking. I'll take care of the body," she says, and I watch as she closes her eyes and murmurs a few words. Larry's lifeless body starts to glow brightly. I wince at the intensity, shielding my eyes. Within seconds, Larry's prone figure is gone, and in its place is a container with his ashes. Colette leans over to pick it up. "I will get this to Stacey and check on her, make sure she can get through the night." She gives a small smile and strides out of the office, urn clutched tightly in her hands, her fingers white.

"We are going to have to check on Colette later," Storm murmurs, her eyes still fixed on the screens.

I sigh as I walk toward the bathroom in my office to wash my hands. "I know."

It was your duty. It doesn't make it any easier, but that was a mercy killing. Every moment on this earth, you prove yourself worthy of my spirit, Aneira. Take solace in that. Your heart is what separates you from those who abuse their power. You are greater than your past. You are stronger.

I don't respond to Agatha, but I nod in agreement. Taking a life is more straightforward when it's driven by anger or hunger, whether for honor or protection, or a meal. Those reasons are easier for my shifter nature to process. But when his shifter side begged me to end his life, to bring peace to his mate, it struck a different chord. I became more than just a judge and executioner, and it was... uncomfortable. But Agatha is right. If I shied away from what makes me a better shifter than my grandfather, I would be turning away from embracing what these eight years have given me: the ability to rise above my past and become who I was meant to be. And, fuck that.

That's something no one will ever make me do again.

ChapterSeven

Aniera

We make our way out of the office just as the current fight has ended, and Storm grabs the mic from Lynsday. My body goes limp as I sit down at our booth, and my eyes flutter closed, feeling heavier than normal. The last twenty minutes sapped my energy more than a run through the forest. I hear Storm cut across the speakers, and a chuckle escapes my lips as she makes another terrible pun. At this point, everyone who knows Storm realizes that whatever comes out of her mouth is done good-naturedly. Well, that and she has no problem bringing even the fiercest of shifters down to size. She would talk in circles around them until they forgot why they were upset in the first place. It's a very effective skill.

Suddenly, my mouth goes dry, and my nerves feel electrified; every hair on my body stands on edge. My eyes fly open as I lean forward and look at my hands, my black claws emerging and retracting of their own volition.What the fuck?My chest goes tight as I try and fail to fill my lungs with air. Shaking my head, I go to stand as a wave of heat overcomes my entire body, and I shudder, my core tightening and my head whooshing as sounds dampen around me.

A groan escapes my lips as I clutch the table before me. I feel Agatha restlessly pacing inside of me, and I shove myself back down into my seat, in an attempt to catch my breath. This is more than just my heat about to come on. The influx of sensations flowing through me—my skin tightening and my scalp burning as if the weight of my hair is too much for it to bear—are stronger than anything I've ever felt before.

I breathe deeply, picking through the room's various scents: blood, leopard, bird, bear, alcohol, sweat. Until one in particular stops me in my tracks: heady, masculine with hints of cinnamon.

Agatha pushes against me.Mate.

Ah, fuck. No. Nope.

Barely holding her back, I force myself up and out of the booth, creeping along the walls until I get to the doors that lead back into my office. I quickly put in the code, my claws detracting and retracting, my jaw aching as I fight the change.

Agatha, you need to calm down.But like any female when you tell her to calm down, she does the opposite. She snarls and throws herself against her cage, rattling the very fiber of my being. I gasp and struggle to maintain any semblance of control as my emotions war with one another. Excitement, fear, dread, joy, and anger threaten to suffocate me and overwhelm my senses as I wrestle with the doorknob.

I almost cry in relief as I burst through the doors, desperation fueling my movements, and lock them behind me. The change swiftly overtakes me, transforming me from two feet to four paws in seconds, thick silver and white coat, peppered with dark black fur instead of skin and a wolf that is throwing herself against the door in desperation instead of me crying in the middle of the room in fear.

After several minutes, a keening cry escapes my muzzle in defeat, the sound raw and achingly painful as Agatha finally tires and rubs herself against my desk and chairs in an attempt to alleviate the emptiness in her heart.

My mate. We must go to him.Her voice is raw, filled with the tears she's unable to shed, longing for our mate with a palpable force that threatens to tear me apart. And even though I don't have the heart to say it, I know she feels my stance on the matter…I don’twantto go to him. I don’t want a mate at all.

* * *

What seems like hours later,I catch the smell of candy apples moments before the door beeps as Storm lets herself into the office. With one look, Storm tsks and strides over. “Oh, my sweet, beautiful, ridiculously giant claw-some companion.”

Agatha lifts her head with a low whimper as Storm settles on the floor and lays her giant head on Storm’s lap. Storm is pack, wolf or not, and Agatha loves her.

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