Page 58 of Enspelled

When the long-haired shifter steps around the couch, his eyes charged with fury I can feel clean across the room, I gulp and start looking for a weapon.

Since the only thing close at hand is a knife block, I seize it and launch it at the stalking shifter. A second after it leaves my hands, I realize it might have been more helpful to use the actual weapons I just threw away.

He smirks as he bats it aside. “Not the brightest, are you?”

I grab the metal teakettle sitting on the stove and hurl that at his head. He’s smiling as he bats it aside—only for the lid to fly open and the water in it to hit him full in the face, drenching him. His friend roars with laughter.

The soaked shifter’s smile dies.

I raise my eyebrow. “Oh, sorry, you were saying?”

Not a smart move, Briar.

He lunges at me, his face twisted in rage. With no time to run or even grab for another weapon, I find myself pinned against the refrigerator with a paw-like hand wrapped tight around my throat.

His eyes narrow. “Now, witch, you’re going to shift.”

What?

A little of my confusion must show because he lifts me a little higher off the floor. “A wolf is hiding somewhere inside you.” He leans close and sniffs me. “Not that I can smell her. But I want to see. So shift. Now.”

Oh, Goddess, when will shifters stop threatening to kill me if I don’t perform for them like I’m some kind of circus pony?

“I can’t,” I gasp.

He’s giving me just enough air to breathe, but there’s no guarantee that won’t change. I eye the water dripping down the side of his face and amend that toprobably soon.

“Can’t or won’t?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Can’t.”

His expression turns thoughtful. “Hmm, maybe if we applied a little pressure, that might change things.”

I know just what kind of pressure he intends to apply.

“Don’t, I—”

He squeezes and I choke.

I grab at his hand in a desperate attempt to peel it away, but it doesn’t budge.

As I struggle to get free, each breath is a battle I have to fight for, and it’s one I slowly lose. Stars dance in my vision and lightheadedness sweeps over me, making me feel like I’m in a dream.

All my focus is on the shifter’s smirking face, igniting my fury.

But there’s no power stirring in my gut. No wolf bursting out of me.

Nothing but a frantic battle to breathe.

My world dims so slowly I barely notice it, and with it, so does my strength.

I claw at the hand around my throat, gasping and wheezing as my feet drum against the refrigerator.

The sound elongates and fades as the rest of the world does.

My hands fall, dangling uselessly by my side, and my vision blurs until I no longer see the shifter’s face in front of me. And as if someone has flicked a switch, everything goes black.

18

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