Page 62

Cameron

R ick, in his wolf form, was halfway through the window, snapping his jaws at Ollie. The wolf’s yellow eyes were wide and maniacal, rolling in their sockets. Strings of saliva hung from teeth that threatened to tear into Ollie’s throat.

“Goddamn it,” Ollie hissed, thrusting his arm beneath Rick’s jaw, trying to keep the wicked teeth from his neck.

The window was made of safety glass, and the fact that it wasn’t completely shattered was all that kept Rick from coming fully into the car. I grabbed Ollie’s shirt and tried to drag him backward, but he swatted me with his free hand.

“Get out of here, Cameron!” he shouted.

He was too busy trying to keep Rick’s jaws away to shift, and even if he could, Ollie had no room to do it and still fight. The truck cab was too small.

Rick snarled and growled like some mad creature from Hell. He looked rabid, crazy. He’d managed to claw both his front paws into the hole in the glass. Blood oozed down his forehead from where he’d busted through, but he didn’t act as though it bothered him in the least.

I grabbed the door handle and yanked it, but it refused to budge.

Why wasn’t it opening? A high keening sound echoed in my ears as I kept tugging on it, and I realized it was me.

A panicked moan was coming from high in my throat.

The terror clawing at my insides made it hard to think, and I gave a quick shake of my head.

The fucking door wasn’t opening because it was locked.

“Shit!” I yelled.

Ollie’s scream drew my attention away from the door.

Rick’s entire upper body was nearly through the glass, and he’d closed his jaws on Ollie’s shirt.

Rick thrashed his head back and forth with maddening force, slinging Ollie around like a ragdoll until his head slammed into the steering wheel.

He fell limply against the wheel, then slid sideways, only held up by the seatbelt.

Blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow.

“ Ollie !” I shrieked.

“It’s fine,” Ollie growled at me. “Get out of here. Run. ”

With his initial target handled, Rick kicked backward, dragging himself out of the window.

Rain sprayed in through the ruined window, and outside, all I could see was the lightning and hear the thunder of the storm.

Lifting my eyes, I peered over the dashboard, trying to get a look at Rick.

He padded over to the front of the car and shifted into his human form, legs wide, both hands at his side, fingers twisted into claws.

“Get out, Cameron!” he screamed, his voice slightly unhinged and wavering. “We have things we need to discuss.”

As he spoke, his voice grew louder, nearer.

He strode toward the passenger side of the truck, coming to get me.

My heart hammered against my ribs, beating hard enough to make my body jolt with each beat.

Panic ate at me. The entire last minute had a surreal, dreamlike quality to it. Was this really happening?

“I said get out ,” Rick snarled.

The door was still locked, but that wouldn’t keep him out long. I had to think before he broke this window, too.

An instant later, Rick tried to open the door. Finding it locked, he let out a roar of frustration and kicked the truck. The whole vehicle rocked on its wheels as if it had been hit by a raging bull rather than the kick of a man. Holy shit, he was stronger than I’d ever realized.

Did that mean I was as well? I was a shifter now, right?

I scurried into the back seat and tried the rear driver-side door. I unlocked it, but it didn’t help. Then I remembered Ollie was a cop. He probably had the child locks on in case he ever needed to use his truck on duty. I was trapped.

From behind me, the squealing sound of bending metal accompanied Rick’s grunts of exertion. When I ventured a look back, I could see him through the passenger window, face red, veins bulging in his neck, teeth bared as he tried to tear the door off its hinges. Holy fucking shit.

Deciding to see if my newly acquired shifter power could help me here, I punched the door as hard as I could.

To my surprise, the plastic casing dented inward, some of it cracking.

Unfortunately, I was either too new a shifter or just not strong enough.

I’d never get the door to bust outward. But the glass? Maybe.

The passenger door gave one final groan—a death gasp—as Rick tore it free. Without looking back, I rammed my fist into the window. The entire thing crashed apart, and several large chunks of glass fell on the seat in front of me.

There was half a second where I stared down at my fully uninjured hand, marveling at what I’d done. A moment later, Rick grasped my ankle and tugged.

“Come here, Cameron.” He was panting, either out of breath or too exhilarated from attacking us—I didn’t know which.

His strength was inescapable. He dragged me back toward the front seat again.

Even through the terror of what was coming, my mind wallowed in the past. As I looked at Rick, at the anger and fervent need in his face, I couldn’t fit it into the puzzle.

All the months we’d been together, the time we’d spent with each other, none of those memories fit with the man I saw before me.

The wet, snarling monster with matted hair that was dragging me across the seat was nothing like the man I’d known.

I could recall the good times we’d shared—the dates, the movies, the dinners, the conversations, the sex.

The gentle, if unexciting, man I’d been dating.

Now? He was a savage beast. My brain couldn’t make sense of it.

Rick took a deep, hissing breath, sucking air into his nostrils. “Dear God, you smell so good,” he growled. “I smelled it from the moment I saw you. I could tell what a good mate you’d make.”

What? My scent? Was that what initially drew him to me that night at the party?

Not my smile, not my face, not my mind, none of that.

Nothing more than a scent? A week ago, that thought would have been crazy, but now?

It made a strange sort of sense. How fast he’d fallen for me, the way he’d cajoled and somewhat forced himself into my life.

Rick had pursued me with a fervent abandon I’d never matched.

My jumbled thoughts were only able to process his statement for a second at best. I snapped back to reality as he raised my leg and tried to haul me back over the seat. I had to act. I had to do something.

On the seat in front of me lay a big sheet of safety glass glistening in the rain that poured in through the shattered window.

I would have preferred a solid shard of glass, but this was all I had to work with.

Grabbing it, I twisted backward, swinging my arm and the wad of glass back toward Rick’s face.

The makeshift weapon did exactly what I’d hoped. It grated across Rick’s face, tearing bloody grooves in his forehead, nose, and cheek, barely missing his eyes. He let go of me and clutched at his face, wailing as blood oozed down his face. The gun tumbled from his hand onto the back floorboard.

“ What the fuck? ” Rick shouted, but I didn’t bother waiting to see how badly I’d hurt him.

Before he could recover, I scrambled forward and hauled myself out of the window.

The back of my skull thudded against the pavement, making my vision go white for a terrifying moment.

The roaring rain and thunder were nearly deafening.

I tried to catch my breath, then clawed at the asphalt to get up, tearing a nail to the quick as I did.

I’d never moved with such panic in my life.

For the first time in my life, I truly understood what people meant by acting like a cornered animal.

I had no other thought but to get away. To flee.

Still dizzy from banging my head, I sprinted around the back of the car toward the forest. I managed to get ten feet before a hand twisted in my hair and yanked me back.

White-hot pain lanced through my scalp, and a moment later, I slammed into the road again.

My breath exploded from my lungs, and sheets of rain poured into my nose and mouth.

Rick stood above me as I coughed, retched, and gasped for air.

“Why are you running, Cameron?” Rick asked. His face was so bloody that it looked like someone had tried to claw his eyes out. Unfortunately, none of the cuts looked too bad now that the rain was washing the blood away.

“You… tried to kill… Ollie,” I grunted, trying to sit up.

“That stupid cop ?” he asked incredulously. He pointed to the truck. “Fuck the cop. This is about us !” he screamed, moving his hand back and forth, gesturing to both of us.

He cut a striking form, outlined against the gunmetal gray sky above. The rain streamed down across his body. He reminded me of a psychopath from some slasher movie. All he was missing was the iconic mask.

“You’re my mate.” The emotion in his voice was heart-wrenching. “That can’t be erased easily. We are meant to be. Don’t you understand that?”

“This is a funny way to show it,” I said, nodding toward the truck where Ollie lay hurt and knocked out. I pushed myself backward, trying to put room between us.

Rick winced in irritation and pounded a fist into his thigh. “ No ! That’s not what this is. I’m not the one trying to hurt you. I’m protecting you! Keeping you safe.”

“From what ?” I shouted, heedless of the danger I was in.

“Form yourself. From that filthy lone wolf you’ve been hanging around with from–”

“The feral , huh? The fucking feral you sent after me? If you’re protecting me, why send that psycho to try and kill me, you bastard?”

The manic and angry expression vanished in an instant, replaced by an entire litany of emotions that flitted across his face in seconds.

Shock, shame, guilt, anger, then the telltale look of a man trying to come up with a good lie.

After that, his face turned stony and cold.

The face of a man who felt completely justified in his actions.