Page 34 of Feral Heart
Stupid Grant held his knife out, pointing it toward Cesar. “The hell’s wrong with your eyes, man?”
“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes.” Cesar advanced slowly, forcing both men to back away. “But there’s a lot wrong with you coming into my house and threatening my elegido. Disfrutaré viendo como la vida sangra de tus ojos, cabrón.”
* * * *
The moment Rowan committed to the strike, Cesar stepped in and hooked his ankle low. One sweep, and the bastard was airborne. Cesar slammed a palm beneath his jaw and snapped his head back. Something cracked. Rowan hit the floor, gasping like it might help.
Cesar’s gaze flicked instinctively to his mate, only to catch Grant slipping behind him, knife pressed cold against Jamie’s throat.
His elegido stood frozen, back arched awkwardly against Grant’s chest, with a steady blade pressed beneath his jaw. One wrong breath and it’d kiss skin. Grant held him too close, using his body like a wall between them. Like he thought Cesar would hesitate.
Fury exploded through Cesar at the sight of the knife at his mate’s throat. Claws unsheathed, extending from his fingertips like lethal daggers. Amber tinged his vision as he locked eyes with Grant, his wolf surging forward.
“Let. Him. Go.” Each word carried a promise of violence. “Now.”
Grant’s eyes widened at the sight of Cesar’s claws, but he recovered quickly, pressing the knife harder against Jamie’s throat. “Back the fuck up or I cut him. I’m not playing.”
Jamie’s gray gaze locked with Cesar’s, wide but surprisingly steady. A hint of determination flickered across his face despite the knife at his throat.
“Last warning,” Cesar said, flexing his clawed hands. “Release my mate or I’ll rip out your black heart.”
Grant laughed, a nervous sound that betrayed his growing unease. “Your mate? What are you, some kind of animal?”
Jamie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving dangerously close to the knife edge. “This little lamb might need his big bad wolf. So I need you to huff and puff, pookie.”
“Shut the hell up,” Grant snarled, yanking Jamie’s head back. His eyes never left Cesar. “I don’t know what you are, but I’m walking out of here alive.”
Movement from the floor caught Cesar’s attention. Rowan slowly pushed himself to his feet, swaying as he regained his balance. His hand disappeared inside his jacket, emerging with a gun that glinted dully in the kitchen light.
Cesar calculated the distance between himself and both threats. If he moved for Rowan, Grant would cut Jamie. If he lunged for Grant, Rowan would shoot.
“Both of you,” Cesar said calmly, even as his wolf scratched at his insides, “will be leaving my house in body bags if you don’t release my mate right now.”
Grant glanced over, saw the gun, and grinned. “Shoot the freak, Rowan.”
With the knife still at Jamie’s throat, Grant pressed harder, breaking skin. A single drop of blood welled up, bright red against Jamie’s pale neck. It slid down slowly, leaving a crimson trail.
Time stopped.
The sight of Jamie’s blood broke something primal inside Cesar. His wolf howled, but it wasn’t just his wolf anymore. Something darker, more ancient rose within him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled. Heat surged through his body, his bones snapping with unsettling pops. The sweatpants stretched taut over his expanding thighs until they tore apart. His face stretched into a snout, human traits vanishing as slate-gray fur swiftly covered his skin.
Grant’s face drained of color. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, knife hand trembling.
In place of Cesar, an eight-foot predator now loomed, muscles shifting powerfully beneath dense fur.
A growl rumbled from Cesar’s throat, deep and menacing. His mouth opened to reveal rows of razor-sharp canines.
“What the fuck is that thing?” Rowan yelled, gun now aimed at Cesar’s massive form.
“Shoot it!” Grant screamed, dragging Jamie backward toward the door. “Shoot the fucking thing!”
A gunshot cracked through the kitchen. Pain bloomed in Cesar’s shoulder as the bullet tore through muscle, but he barely felt it, too consumed by the need to protect his mate.
Cesar lunged forward, faster than either man could track. His massive claws plunged into Rowan’s chest, ripping out his heart. The gun clattered to the floor as Rowan fell in a crumpled heap.
Swinging around, Cesar faced Grant, who had backed himself and Jamie against the counter, knife still at Jamie’s throat but now visibly shaking.
