Page 96 of His Claim
The room was a blur of motion and death. Wolves screamed, the smell of blood thick enough to choke on. The floor shook from the violence of it.
For a moment, I thought—we might actually win this.
Then I looked at her eyes again.
There was nothing human left in them.
She stood amid the carnage, drenched in blood, her chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths. The veins under her skin pulsed black. Her mouth opened, and a sound came out, a scream so full of rage it barely sounded like it could have come from a living thing. It was hunger and grief and fury all at once.
Elsie pivoted toward the doorway just as a group of soldiers poured through it. The light from the flames turned her hair into a moving halo of fire, almost like a crown for some wild and ruined queen. She threw herself into the fray with a roar that didn’t sound like it belonged on this planet. Wolves met her charge, weapons up. They opened fire, but she was too fast. Bullets tore through air where she had been just a heartbeat before.
She hit a soldier square in the chest, caving it in, and the impact slammed him into the wall so hard that the plaster spider-webbed and crumbled. She grabbed the fallen rifle and spun, the butt of her weapon cracking across another wolf’s jaw. The gun broke, but she didn’t even hesitate. Instead, she drove the jagged edge into his throat and let him fall.
Blood sprayed, splattering everywhere, but her eyes were fixed on the next target. The glow inside them flickered between silver and black, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The corridor became a storm of muzzle flashes and smoke. Still in my wolf form, I leapt into it beside her, claws catching a wolf’s shoulder, dragging him down. A bullet tore a hot line across my flank, the pain barely registering under the sound of Elsie’s fury.
She was a blur of motion, every strike precise and brutally effective. Wolves shouted orders, but their voices were drowned in the noise. A grenade rolled across the floor, the explosion throwing me back into a wall. For a heartbeat I couldn’t hear anything but ringing.
When my vision cleared, I saw her standing in the middle of it all. She was bleeding now, deep gashes along her arms and sides, but she didn’t seem to notice. She caught another wolf’s wrist, twisted, and snapped bone. Her other hand punched straight through his armor, claws digging into his chest. She tore free holding his still-beating heart, breath ragged, chest heaving.
Her roars filled the corridor again, raw and endless.
I wanted to reach her—to tell her to stop before the serum devoured what little of her humanity was left—but there was no space between her and the violence anymore.
It had swallowed her whole.
The next wave came from the far end of the hall—dozens of them. Wolves in heavy armor, rifles raised, moving as one. The sound of their boots was like rolling thunder. Elsie turned to face them, shoulders square, blood dripping from her chin. She grinned, all teeth and defiance.
“Come on then,” she hissed, sounding inhuman. “Let’s dance.”
They opened fire.
The hallway erupted in smoke and light. She charged into it anyway, bullets tearing through her, jerking her body with every impact. She kept moving. One by one, she pulled wolves down, clawed through armor, ripped weapons from their hands. Every step left a smear of red behind her. I could smell her blood, tangy and hot.
She stumbled once, knees buckling. For a heartbeat I thought she’d fall. Then she screamed again, forcing herself up, staggering toward the nearest wolf. She tore the rifle from his grip and swung it like a club, the stock shattering across his helmet. Another shot caught her in the ribs; she turned with the hit and drove the broken weapon through his face and out the back of his skull.
Her movements slowed, but her eyes still burned. The serum still pushed her forward. She lunged at another, fingers curling around his collar. A burst of gunfire hit her square in the back. She gasped, blood blooming bright on her chest, but even as she dropped to one knee she dragged the soldier down with her, clawing him until he stopped moving.
I roared, the sound shaking the walls.
She looked back at me, her eyes unfocused, glowing faintly through the smoke. For a moment, I thought I saw her—therealher—behind the black veins webbed across her skin.
“Sweetheart,” she breathed, a small, broken laugh slipping out, “guess this is… my quiet exit after all.”
The last wave of fire hit her then. Bullets tore through her side, her shoulder, her neck. She staggered, tried to rise again, but her body gave out. Still, even on her knees, she swung her fist, catching one more wolf in the jaw before she finally fell.
The corridor fell into an uneasy quiet. The wolves shifted restlessly among the wreckage, their rifles slack in their hands, as they stared down at what was left of Elsie in a sort of shellshock.
Then, from somewhere deep in the compound, a siren wailed. A new voice cracked through the static of a radio on one soldier’s belt:“Sector Nine breach. Repeat, breach in the power corridor—possible attack. All units redeploy immediately.”
The wolves exchanged quick, silent looks. The leader barked an order, and they began to fall back, jogging down the hall in pairs, boots pounding through blood and glass. One lingered, glancing down at me where I crouched beside the wall, covered in soot and blood. My paws trembled against the tile. For a moment, our eyes met through the haze.
Maybe he saw my exhaustion there. Maybe he thought I was finished, that I’d bleed out in minutes. Maybe, in some small mercy, he just didn’t want to waste another bullet.
He turned and left without a word.
When the last echo of their boots died, the only sound left was the slow, stuttering rattle of lab equipment settling after the blast. The light flickered, painting everything in a dull, rhythmic pulse.
