Page 18 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

It’s like watching two different people, she murmured, observing herself prowl the rental house’s living room, head tilting occasionally to scent the air in a distinctly lupine gesture.

Your wolf was fighting to surface despite the chemical suppression, Anders said, pausing the footage on a frame that showed her eyes reflecting gold in the dim light.

And look here—your physical symptoms increase dramatically after sunset.

The moon’s pull affects all shifters, but especially those fighting their nature.

Etta stared at her own image, simultaneously familiar and foreign. I hate that they did this to me. Made me into someone—something—I don’t recognize.

Anders’s hand covered hers, warm and steady. You’re reclaiming yourself. Every memory that returns, every moment you acknowledge your wolf—you’re taking back what was stolen.

Their eyes met, and the air between them seemed to heat, charged with electricity.

Etta was acutely aware of his proximity, of how his scent wrapped around her.

I don’t know who I am anymore, she said, her voice barely audible. The human life I thought was mine was fabricated. The shifter life I barely remember was stolen.

Anders turned his chair to face her fully, his expression intense.

I’m caught between worlds. Etta blinked rapidly, holding back tears.

You’re Etta, Anders said firmly. The core of who you are—your courage, your intelligence—that’s you, whether human or wolf.

His voice soothed something raw and jagged inside her. How can you be so sure?

Because I see you. Not just the journalist or the wolf, but you —the woman who refuses to be broken by what was done to her.

The sincerity in his eyes undid her.

In an instant, she was acutely aware of the minute changes in his presence.

The smell that marked him as distinctly Anders now carried undertones of anticipation. It wrapped around her like a second skin, igniting pathways of awareness she hadn’t known existed.

She inhaled deeply, feeling the aroma weave through her being, a silent call that tugged at the core of what her newfound instincts were beginning to recognize.

The command center felt both impossibly vast and stiflingly intimate, as if the room itself had constricted around them. With every breath, the room seemed to shrink, the walls echoing back the pulse of their enclosed space, wrapping them in each other’s heartbeats.

Etta found herself leaning toward him, inching across the invisible line they’d been dancing around.

There was a gravitational pull in his solidity, in his strength, that stirred an inexplicable longing within her.

Her body angled toward him.

Anders’s gaze raked down her form, practically tangible, and she froze, a deer caught in the headlamps of his attention, her breath hitching slightly.

Anders went still, too, and when he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

I’m leaving this all up to you.

The words hovered in the space that separated them, an offering, a surrender of control. In those few syllables, Anders placed the choice firmly in Etta’s hands.

A sense of liberation washed over her along with the knowledge that she held the power.

Her senses hummed with heightened awareness, each breath, each heartbeat threatening to sweep her away.

Placing her hand upon his chest, she felt the solid thrum of his heart beneath her palm. She tilted her head up, locking her gaze onto his, searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none—only the steady burn of anticipation.

The air between them thickened, and Etta became acutely aware as he watched her of every inch he surveyed, from the curve of her jaw down the column of her throat, lingering on the rise and fall of her chest before lifting once more to meet her eyes.

A blush bloomed across her cheeks, spreading over her skin as the heat of his stare branded her, the possibilities he offered both enticing and unnerving her.

Her pulse quickened, desire playing beneath her skin as she leaned into the space he held open for her.

Slowly, deliberately, Etta bridged the final breath of space that divided them, pressing her lips to Anders’s, her breath feathering against his lips—a soft whisper of contact at first.

Anders responded, his lips parting to welcome her deeper.

Unlike their first kiss in the clearing, which had been tentative and questioning, this one was hungry, desperate.

She gripped his shoulders tightly as he moved his arms to encircle her waist, drawing her onto his lap without breaking the kiss.

Heat blazed between them, and Etta pressed closer, wanting more contact, more connection.

Anders groaned against her mouth, sliding his hands up her back to tangle in her hair. The gentle tug sent sparks of pleasure racing across her skin, and she responded with a soft sound that was nearly a growl.

Her senses reeled, overwhelmed by the taste of him, the scent that clung to his skin, the sound of their mingled breaths.

Anders slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, skimming along the soft skin of her waist. His thumbs traced the tender undersides of her breasts, igniting a trail of heat that arrowed straight down.

When he brushed them across her nipples, the sensation pooled into lava, heating her core, ready to burst into flame at any moment.

A moan escaped Etta’s lips as she surrendered to the pleasure he evoked. The sound reverberated against the stark walls of the command center, mingling with the hum of technology.

Pure longing scented the air between them, their touches whispering secrets only her newly heightened senses could decipher as he trailed his lips from her mouth to her jaw, then pushed her shirt up. He dipped his head down, lifting her breasts out of her bra.

As he slid his lips against her skin, she pressed her chest forward, offering more access in a gesture that felt instinctively right. Anders accepted the invitation, closing his mouth around one nipple.

The moment she felt the heat of his tongue flickering against her nipple, something exploded in Etta’s mind—a cascade of memory so intense that every physical sensation faded.

Her mother, cuddling her close after a nightmare. Shhh, you’re safe. No one can hurt you while I’m here.

Her father, teaching her to hunt in wolf form. That’s it! Trust your instincts.

Running with her pack, the jubilant feeling of belonging, of family, of unity .

Then—gunshots. Screams. Her mother shifting to human form just long enough to hide her in a hollow log. Don’t make a sound, no matter what happens. I’ll come back for you.

But she never did .

Men in black gear, dragging her from her hiding place. The prick of a needle. Waking in a white room, strapped to a table .

Asset E5 shows remarkable adaptive capabilities, a cold voice said. Increase the dosage. We need complete suppression before placement.

Pain that seemed endless .

Then—nothing .

Blankness .

A new family, a new life, carefully constructed memories replacing the truth .

Etta came back to herself with a gasp, tears streaming down her face. Anders held her steady.

The pain of loss—parents, pack, identity—overwhelmed her. A keening sound escaped her throat, not quite human, not quite wolf.

Then a new, searing pain ripped through her limbs, and a scream tore from her throat.

Every joint seemed to be trying to dislocate simultaneously, Etta’s bones grinding against each other. White-hot agony lanced through her spine as it bent and twisted.

Etta curled into a fetal position as Anders gently moved her from his lap to the floor. Every muscle spasmed violently. It felt like being torn apart from the inside out. Another wave of pain slammed through her.

Through tear-blurred eyes, Etta saw him kneel beside her, his hands hovering uncertainly over her contorted form.

Her fingers cramped violently, bones cracking as they attempted to elongate and reshape into claws. Etta watched in horror as her nails thickened and curved, the transformation halting halfway through as her body fought against itself.

Her jaw ached as her teeth began to elongate, her facial bones creaking as they attempted to reshape into a partial muzzle. She could feel her ears shifting position, moving higher on her skull.

What’s happening to me? she managed between gasping breaths.

Partial shift, Anders said, his voice tight. Your emotions are triggering your wolf. I think your body is fighting the chemical suppressants still in your system.

Each word registered dimly through the fog of pain. A new wave of agony rippled through her as fine white fur began to sprout along her arms, the hair follicles feeling like thousands of needles piercing her skin simultaneously.

I can’t do this— She sobbed as pain racked her body again.

Yes, you can. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. Your wolf has been caged for too long. She’s fighting for freedom. Help her. Don’t resist the change.

Etta closed her eyes, tears leaking from beneath her lids as she tried to follow his instruction.

This is going to kill me …