Page 13 of The Wolf's Bullied Pregnant Mate
You have no energy. But, oh, how your particular powers pour into the sands of our island.
“It is notyourisland,” I shouted. But what power did I have left to defeat the demon or to even protect myself? My shields were incomplete; I had no energy left. It kept on growing, looming up in the darkness, out of the water. Its body was long, endless, limbs all reaching for me. It landed on all fours, crawling towards me, and I scrambled further back.
Those sharp teeth gnashed near my face, threatening to cut through my skin easily.I lifted my hand, throwing the last sliver of energy into a shield the demon smashed into, splintering its weak strength. I collapsed onto the sand. I had seconds until the demon recovered from the impact.
A roar split the night.
Every hair on my skin rose as I dared to look back, searching in the shadows of the trees behind me. There was no movement.
Turning back to the demon, I felt helpless when it launched for me.
But then something dark soared over my head, a huge mass outstretched in a leap, crashing down onto the hellish creature. A wolf. The almost-black wolf watching me from the waterfall—the wolf from my dreams.
Zephyr.
My breath came out in heavy pants. I scrambled further back, clutching my bag to my chest as the sound of tearing and squealing came from the demon. Black blood sprayed, and the wolf’s growls were rough in its throat. Claws elongated, paws swiped, and then the demon’s energy diminished.
The wolf stepped back. Slowly, his head turned, green eyes meeting mine. A low snarl rumbled in his throat. Hatred filled his eyes as his body moved, so that his massive form was facing me. Zephyr, as a man, was intimidating enough, but he was so much worse when he wasn’t using those poisonous words. What thoughts did he retain as a wolf?
“Zephyr,” I whispered, my eyes wide. “Zephyr, please.”
He took a step towards me. His snarl built into a growl. Blood still coated his muzzle and paws. His teeth were as big as my palm, and I knew that, if he wanted, he could have me dead in seconds. Fear stuck in my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, all as the wolf stalked towards me.
Never trust a wolf, my mom had once told me.Do not ever turn your back on one. Do not think they will ever be your ally.Shifters are dangerous beings, Adalyn. Stay away. Our bloodlines mixed once, and it was the biggest mistake made to think we could live in harmony. They are not allies—they are our enemies.
Enemy.
I could not forget that.
Not for a second.
Not as Zephyr pursued me, leaving prints in the sand in his wake.
His growl reverberated across the beach, swallowed up by the night. The hatred in his stare… Hatred forme, awitch. Everything from my younger years rushed back to me. The reminder of how hated I was simply for possessing magic I had never chosen to wield.
Zephyr snarled his disgust.
I shot to my feet. I could cast a shield, but Zephyr wasn’t inherently magic. It would do nothing. As a wolf, he would outrun me. Still, I had to give myself a chance.
I turned. I ran like hell.
The wolf launched after me.
Chapter 6 - Zephyr
Adalyn bathed in moonlight, fighting the demon as if she could do anything productive after emptying her energy into the shields, making anger spark in me.
Did she really think her pathetic attempts at an offensive attack would work? Her measly shields were shattered, her cries went up, and Adalyn skittered down the length of the beach.
Idiot, I thought.You’re drawing them closer to civilization.
I lingered in the woods, watching her, considering turning around and going back to the villa, letting the demon have its witchy feast. But no. If anyone claimed to kill a powerful Lindell witch, it would be me.
Enemy, I thought, as I tore into the demon, shredding its leathery skin beneath my claws, dispatching it swiftly.
Enemy, I thought, as I slowly turned back to look at Adalyn, her eyes wide, her chest heaving with fear or panic.Good.Be afraid of me. You should be.
I stalked towards her, a snarl ripping through my throat. The anger in her eyes, the fear, the mixture of two that I knew she would hate herself for when clarity kicked in, was delicious, like a drug. Addictive.
