Page 71 of Depraved
But then I catch a shifter’s scent.
It’s not Pluto’s. Not Warcraft’s. Not Katherine’s.
Oh god.
Elena’s eyes widen, and she glances over at me, then grabs her phone.
“No, that’s too fast,” she whispers. “He won’t land for ten ...”
She trails off and then turns her phone screen so that I can see it. A text bubble from Black shows up.
We can’t land yet because of wind shear.
My heart stops beating.
Black’s not coming.
Her eyes widen as she stares up at me.
My stomach drops.
A husky scream fills the air inside the shop. Adelle didn’t make it outside. Regret hits me. That poor old woman didn’t need to die. Fuck.
Adelle didn’t make it outside, and one of them made it in.
It’s Thomas. It has to be.
Elena cringes, grabbing onto me as the screaming turns to gurgles. I scent blood.
My wolf appears in my line of vision, pacing. But I don’t have eyes for him. I can only see Elena.
Her pale skin. Her dark hair. Pouty lips. Her soft gray gaze turns to me, and I’m trapped by it.
She mouths, “I’m sorry.”
But I shake my head.
If I’m going to die, at least it will be with the love of my life. I put a hand to her jaw and try to ignore the way my shoulders hunch and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I hear Thomas Stone laugh.
I start to trace the side of Elena’s face one last time before I turn to defend her, and my eyes fall on Black’s mark on her neck.
Instinct tugs at me.
If I’m going to die anyway ...
I lean down, press my lips to hers just for a moment before I pull back. But I don’t look up into her eyes, my gaze turns down the junction between her neck and shoulders on her unmarked side. I lean down…and I bite.
My gums heat as my teeth lengthen into fangs, and the bite becomes deeper. I feel my eyes warm and shift, and my vision changes. The coppery smell of human blood intensifies.
But underneath my lips, shifter magic sings. Our bond clicks into place, and all the lost, confused uncertainty I’ve anguished over during the past week vanishes. Something spirals through my soul. I can’t name it, this feeling. This connection. But it’s like the hum of a faulty engine right after you fix it. It’s that high when you’re driving and take a curve really fast, and your stomach flies out to the side. It’s crossing the finish line in first place.
When I straighten, I move my lips, intending to apologize, but she shakes her head and places her hand over her heart, touching it twice. Telling she loves me without making a sound because a sound will bring him here faster.
Tears sparkle in her eyes, and I know I put them there.
“I fucking love you,” she mouths as the door to the first dressing room collapses with a crash, making the cheap pony walls around us rattle.
My shoulders hunch, and I turn away from Elena, swiping at the droplets of her blood that still linger on the corners of my mouth.
