Page 29 of Mortal Shift
“What about Cole?”
Ryker, who had already started turning away, turned back to me with an irritated scowl.
“What about him?”
“I’m getting punished, but not him?” A stab of something uncomfortable ran through my gut as I said the words, like I should be protecting him instead of throwing him under the bus, but to hell with that. He’d done the exact same thing to me.
Ryker’s lips curved upward.
“Seeing your wound is his punishment.”
I raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That hardly seems fair.”
“Fair?” Ryker barked a sharp laugh. “How old are you, Miss Ellis?”
“Eighteen,” I said, perplexed by the sudden change of topic.
“And you still believe in fair?” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Where the hell did they find you?” His face straightened into its usual scowl. “Are you still here? Fuck off out of my face before I give you a matching mark on your other hand.”
I scuttled back quickly, and crashed into something. Cole. Just great.
“Still can’t keep your hands off me, princess?” he said with a sneer.
“Oh, bite me,” I snapped, stepping away from him. My hand was throbbing, and my gut was twisting with way too many emotions to even begin to understand, and heat was prickling behind my eyes.
I wasn’t going to cry. No way. Not here, with half the shifters in our year watching me. I fixed a disinterested scowl on my face and forced my hands to relax by my sides, ignoring the steady drip drip drip of blood from the wounded one. It would heal, and it’d stop hurting soon enough. It wasn’t deep enough to need any kind of medical attention. It just stung. But it had been intended to humiliate me more than anything else, and what irked me was that it had worked.
“Right, if no-one else wants to contradict me, let’s get on with this lesson. When I say—and not before,” he added on a snarl, “you’ll shift into your wolf forms. And that’s all. Shift, and stand. Clear?”
The students nodded their heads, and my scowl turned to confusion. I glanced around, but everyone here was in a pale gray uniform. I was the only one who couldn’t shift. I tentatively raised the hand that wasn’t dripping blood.
Ryker’s eyes snapped to me. “Yes?”
“What shall I do?”
“Sit your ass down and stay out of the way.”
“Fine.” I snapped the word and then backed up to the edge to the clearing. This was clearly going to be a total waste of my time. Should have brought a book. I sat down and leaned back against the tree behind me. At least it was dry.
“Clothes off, and find yourself some space. Now. We don’t have all day.”
Do what now? I jerked my eyes up from the dirt between my feet and sure enough, all around me people were undressing and setting their uniforms aside. I mean, it made sense, and I’d seen Cole strip before he shifted yesterday so he didn’t shred his clothes, but still. In front of each other? I couldn’t work out what was weirdest—the group nudity or the fact that I was the only one who seemed to care.
Ryker surveyed the group with a curt nod. “Good. You can shift.”
And they did. Some of them threw their heads back and cried out in pain as their bones crunched and their bodies reshaped themselves, and others bore it stoically, seemingly intent on getting through it as quickly as possible. Some seemed to take longer than others, and I watched in fascination as some completed their change in a handful of seconds, like Cole had, while others spent nearly a full minute writhing and twisting as their change came over them inch by painful inch. I couldn’t quite bring myself to feel pity for them—their amused faces at my torment last night were still vivid in my mind. My eyes roved the dozens of wolves, easily picking out Cole. All of the beasts were large, but he was a clear inch taller than the rest, and more heavily muscled, too. His slate gray fur was a stark contrast to his amber eyes, and my breath caught in my throat as I watched him standing there, calm and majestic.
…Which, of course, was a thought planted by this stupid mate bond, because he was an asshole who I hated, and did not think even remotely beautiful.
At all.
Snarling erupted and I jumped, jerking my head round. Across the clearing, two of the wolves were fighting, hackles raised as they threw themselves at each other with an audible clashing of teeth. The growls grew louder as they tried to battle their way through each other’s thick coats to sink their teeth in and I flinched back as they threw themselves at each other again, smashing muscle into muscle, and the paler of the two won out, slamming the darker to the ground. He drove his teeth at the darker wolf’s throat, but it kicked out at him, scoring a gash across his face. He flinched back and then threw himself forward again, but the other wolf was already up and baring its fangs, snapping at the air between them.
A snarl rang out that raised the hair on my arms, and a third wolf stalked toward the pair. He was bigger than them both—bigger even than Cole—and moved with a self-assured ease, inherent violence lacing every controlled step. I fought to keep my eyes on him while every instinct screamed at me to look away, avert my eyes.Submit.
And I knew, somehow, that this was Ryker. And he was awe-inspiring.
He snarled again at the fighting pair, and darker wolf leaped back and pressed his belly to the floor, ears flattening back on his head. The paler wolf moved fast as a flash, taking advantage of his rival’s prone form to race at him.
