Page 133 of Just One Bite
Here, I’m not Olivia Osborne the Mastermind. I’m Olivia, the ballerina destined to be with Parker Owens, who joined The Hunt to save his damsel. I wish it were true. That sounds like the best-case scenario, but I’m afraid to let myself dwell on the possibility. What if he really did come for someone else?
I like their stories. There’s comfort in how trivial it all sounds.
We stand in a clearing in the trees, and all the hunters are being instructed tokneel in the grass. It’s a mix of men and women. Parker is shirtless and crouches to his knees, one leg at a time, while they run shiny silver liquid over his chest. It falls in ribbons over his pecks and down into the curves of his abs.
Our eyes meet. He can smell me.
“We honor a long-held mating tradition of The Hunt. May each of you find prosperity and the one your heart desires. Hold gaze with our moons and receive your place in the universe in acceptance of what will be.”
Howls erupt around me as Parker lifts his chin toward the sky. No words come from his lips, but I see the change reflected in his eyes. They glow yellow, and a deep howl rumbles from his chest. His shoulders stiffen, and veins grow and pop from his skin. It’s lacing its way into every inch of his body by the second. His canines grow, and his deafening howl radiates throughout my entire body. I may not be able to detect what dominance feels like, but I see it in the faces of the crowd as mouths close and backs straighten. The hairs on my arm prick up, and they move a cup in front of Parker’s face that’s filled with silver powder. He breathes in, and all the glow runs out of his eyes until they’re pure black.
“Breathe in the new breath of your new reality. You are one with the moons.”
Parker’s body shakes, and his chest shimmers in the moonlight. I let out a breath, and his attention snaps to me. His eyes are midnight black, and he rises to his feet, nostrils flared and shoulders back. I think he’s going to run toward me, but with the crack of his neck, his body begins to shift. All I’ve ever seen are the pictures in my textbook, but this doesn’t compare.
He grows taller before my eyes as his chest fills and his shoulders broaden. The hair bursts from his skin, and his forearms swell just before his hands grow larger and claws jut out. His change springs more until the entire group is shifting, and we’re all being pushed inside the building. Howling fills the garden. Just before I’m pushed through the door, I see him.
Standing still on two legs, Parker’s werewolf form towers above us, and he’s a few inches taller than the others. He’s at least eight feet tall, with a long stout nose and rows of pointed teeth. With glowing eyes locked on me, he licks his lips. There’s a separation in the crowd, then I see all of him. He still looks like a man in many ways, with strong muscle form.
I swear I can hear the word in my head.Mine.
The door shuts, closing me off from them, and their howls echo in the night.
“While they’re having their first run of the land, you may all prepare for the feast.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Parker
This is the most food I’ve ever seen. I haven’t eaten all day—except for a rabbit during the shift? I barely remember picking the fuzz out of my teeth—so I’ve got hotheaded blood simmering out of control, an empty growling stomach, and the nauseous urge to barf any time I look at the food, because Olivia is still anxious. By mid-dinner, I’m so delirious I’ve resigned to looking at the wall. Then to Olivia who is across the room with the other hunted. Her under eyes are dark, and she doesn’t crack a smile once, only the forced pleasant ones when someone compliments her or asks her about herself. But the girls are being kind to her, and that brings me a little peace.
I’m at a table in the far corner, strategically picked so I could watch over her. There are brass chandeliers in the rafters that cast the room in a warm-yellow glow.
“Are you really not going to eat?” Austin asks me.
The live music starts and the energy in the hall shifts. Some people have already gotten drunk enough to dance. One guy stands up, pitches his napkin on the table, and goes to talk to Olivia. I grit my teeth and grab a few turkey thighs for my plate.
“Owens looks like he might shift,” Garrik says.
All the assholes have gravitated to my table, which is the fucking story of my life. I’m a magnet for them. Most of them are acquaintances I’ve met before insome way or another. A few I used to attend school with in the city. Some are from different universities or different Rage teams.
Gavin would call this “an opportunity for greatness,” but I’m not in the mood to be great. The guy across the room is trying really hard to make Olivia laugh by telling her jokes that aren’t funny. She’s obliging him though with a half-smile and forced chuckle.
“She smells so much like you.” Garrik has been staring at her all day. All of them have.
But Garrik doesn’t hide the fact he wants her. I smell the shift in his scent when he takes a long look and lingers on her bare legs.
“Probably because a few days ago I was dripping out of her.”
His eyebrows raise with that shit-eating smirk, and it does what I want. His attention is back on me as he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of the goblet of wine on the table.
I’m itchy, so I finally take a bite of the cold turkey leg on my plate. “So, yeah, I’d say we’re pretty close.”
“Yep, he’s in love with her,” Austin says. He’s a trust fund kid and a Rage team captain—the only tolerable one.
“She’s in love with him too. That’s easy to tell,” the tall one, Calix, says. He might be the largest man I’ve ever seen. I’ve had to fight him on the ice before. It sucked, but I still won. He’s the reason for a lot of the scars on my back.
“Not a dealbreaker for me.” Garrik’s watching me eat.
