Page 8 of Stealthy as a Wolf

Every inch of me throbbed with pain from the abrupt shift. I staggered, disoriented at finding myself on two legs once again, my body feeling bulky and heavy after being in my feline form for so long. She was so slight that she barely managed to keep me upright, but as hard as I tried to take my own weight, I was too weak.

For the first time in five years, I was out of prison. The air was so fresh that it actually stung my lungs. Everything in the dark alley appeared in bright, bold colors that made my eyes ache as I struggled to process my surroundings. It was a little unnerving to be out in the open, not surrounded by cement blocks or metal bars. Instead of watching just one direction of attack, I had to watch all sides, and it made my cat skittish.

So when two men broke me out of the prison van, I didn’t hesitate—I ran.

Unfortunately, the drugs they’d pumped into me over the years and the inactivity of being locked in a three-by-five cell had taken a toll. I was fucking weak as a kitten. It was pathetic. My sister, Tessah, would laugh her ass off…if she were still around to see this day.

Actually, I wasn’t sure I was completely sane after being locked away for so long, not only trapped in my cell but imprisoned in my animal form as well. They liked to switch it up to keep me weak—a few months as a human, then as a cat.

Until this past year.

For a whole year, they kept me locked in my cat form, caged in a tiny box.

No hunting.

No chasing.

No choices.

I knew it pissed the guards off when I didn’t just die. My usefulness was gone, my refusal to do what they wanted sealing my fate. I’d become more of a liability than an asset. After months of plotting my escape, I finally settled on the option that had the most likely chance of success, but nothing had gone according to plan. When they finally put me in the back of the prison van, I knew my time was up.

If I didn’t want to die, I needed to make my move now.

It was my last chance.

My instincts told me that I needed to stay with the girl if I wanted to remain alive. Despite the danger, I gave in to the urge to lean in closer to the little wolf, her orangey scent threatening to weaken my knees. I allowed her to take more of my weight, afraid that I would fall on my face, and I barely resisted the urge to brush my cheek against hers and rub my scent all over her.

A broken purr rumbled in my chest and heat seared up my neck. And even though I was partially mortified, feeling like a kitten for the first time since I was young, the sensations bombarding me were exhilarating.

Even weak and feeble and full of drugs, I’d never felt more alive.

Because of her.

So when we turned the corner and came face-to-face with three faux guards who’d smuggled me out of the prison just so they could execute me, I didn’t hesitate to shove the girl to the side and throw myself at them. “Run!”

Because I would never forgive myself if she got hurt for trying to help me. If the infamous Snake Eyes gang caught her, there was no doubt in my mind that the assholes would kill her just to keep her silent.

They could not leave any witnesses to their crimes.

Because then the lie that I broke out of prison and died during the escape would be exposed.

So I swung my fists, knees, and elbows, uncaring of the damage they inflicted in retaliation. It was a battle to the death, one I couldn’t lose…that Iwouldn’tlose.

I would not allow any harm to come to the girl.

Not on my watch.

So I fought dirty, every fiber of my being focused on annihilating my opponents and giving her time to flee.

* * *

MAGGIE

Istumbled from the unexpected shove, then straightened to see the cat I rescued fighting like a man possessed. He was vicious—ruthless, even—the smack of fists hammering on flesh and grunts of pain ringing in my ears.

And he was doing it completely naked.

Yeah, I was a shifter, I was used to seeing people naked, but something about this man was different.

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