Page 9 of Stealthy as a Wolf

The flex and release of his muscles were hypnotizing…almost enough to distract me from the way his cock just swung back and forth, bobbed up and down, and slapped at his legs and stomach as he fought.

I tore my attention away from his dick, trying not to squirm as I imagined what he would feel like inside me. Something about the way he moved, all smooth grace, said he knew just how to use it.

I shook my head to get my thoughts out of the gutter.

Now was not the time to get all girly and catch feelings and shit.

Especially not in the middle of a fight.

I was used to violence, my wolf actually craving the brutality and bloodshed of it, and I clenched my fists to keep from wading into the battle. I would only get in the way and be a distraction.

Besides, it looked like he was winning.

Until I saw another guard enter the alley behind him. If I did nothing, I knew the guy I saved would die.

I couldn’t allow that to happen.

My wolf rose to the surface without me even having to call her, strength filling my limbs, energy surging through my veins. Then I charged the man, gaining speed with every step.

The other man was faster, almost slithering through the shadows.

But I’d been training myself, learning how to fight.

One of the things I’d learned was how to merge my human self with my wolf. Fangs burst from my gums, claws pierced my fingertips in the kind of partial shift only alphas could do at will because they had so much control over their animal.

I was just a baby compared to some, but my connection to my animal was stronger than most. I was used to going up against bigger and stronger men and taking them down. My wolf was fearless and absolutely relentless when she set her sights on something.

So when I charged at the man, I lashed my claws across the front of his chest. They easily ripped through his clothes and drew blood, gouging into his flesh until my fingers dragged across bone. He bellowed in pain, then lashed out so fast that I didn’t have time to brace myself before he wrapped his hand around my neck and clamped down tight.

That was when I realized my mistake.

I should never have gotten within touching distance.

Because up close, I could see into his eyes.

His wide, unblinking eyes that had vertical slits…just like a snake.

A boa constrictor to be precise, if the pattern my wolf pushed into my mind was any indication.

I grabbed the hand that had a death grip on my throat, desperate to relieve the pressure, but I knew even if I managed to break every finger in his hand, he would never release me. If I struggled too hard, I would only succeed in ripping out my own throat.

I was royally fucked.

Then a body collided with us, sending us both flying toward the pavement. Dirt and grit shredded my skin as I skidded across the asphalt, the pain sharp and immediate before it faded and a rush of adrenaline surged through my veins.

I pushed myself upright, wheezing as I sucked in a much needed breath of glorious air. I peered up to see my rescuer stomp his foot down on my attacker’s face until bones crunched and the man went still.

“We need to go.” Breathing heavily, my rescuer limped toward me, clutching at the nasty wound across his torso. He reached down, stifling a grunt, his grip bruising as he hauled me upright, and I stumbled after him as he dragged me down the alley.

When we finally turned the corner, we both halted—a field of corpses was scattered between two vans, a veritable nest of dead snakes. Only half the bodies were wearing prison guard uniforms, while the rest were wearing all black, like some ninja rejects. Their bodies were bruised and battered, some even mangled beyond recognition, like they’d been mauled.

Two vehicles waited on the street, blocking the alley. One was a plain black, nondescript vehicle, the other was a white, standard-issue state prison van with the backdoors open.

Two snakes in human form were picking up the bodies and stashing them in the white van, cursing and muttering to themselves as they tossed another body onto the pile. The man on the right kept licking his lips, his chest rattling every time he inhaled.

The other man looked younger, his skin flaky, like he was shedding or molting or something, the pupils of his slightly bulging eyes just slits. He gave an angry hiss every time he bent to pick up a body, like he was pissed at having to do such a menial task.

When my rescuer straightened and took a step forward to confront them, I grabbed his arm and shook my head. We were in no shape to fight and win. I shot a pointed look at the innocent black van opposite where the other two were working.

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