Page 22

Birdie

The night air had a bite to it. Tennessee springs weren’t supposed to be this cold, not in April, but my skin prickled with more than just the breeze as I followed Rocky and a few of his brothers up the dark, winding trail that led to an old moonshiner’s cabin. They were doing a midnight supply drop, something about gear and rations for the club. Normal MC stuff, I guessed. Except nothing in my world had been normal for weeks.

Ever since Rocky showed me what he really was, a damn wolf, not just in spirit but in flesh and fang, I’d been sleepwalking through my days, doing my work from my laptop at Eliza’s or at the Wild Dog with Knox as my babysitter. Then Rocky would show up at night. And no matter how close we got, he let me go back to sleep in Eliza’s guest room every night. There I was wide awake through every dream, heart racing with a cocktail of fear and longing I couldn’t untangle.

“You sure you wanna be here, Birdie?” Rocky asked over his shoulder, voice gruff but laced with that quiet protectiveness I’d come to rely on, even when I hated myself for it.

“I’m not made of glass, Rocky,” I muttered, hugging my hoodie tighter around my body. “I’m not just gonna sit at Eliza’s like some princess while y’all go play soldier in the woods.”

He chuckled low, and the sound sent heat curling through my belly. “Ain’t no princess I ever met talk like that.”

“I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met,” I said, trying for cocky and maybe landing a little closer to desperate.

That was the last time we joked that night.

The moment we reached the clearing, something felt off. It was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet, not the kind that wrapped around your shoulders like a flannel blanket, but the kind that crawled up your spine and whispered wrong .

Rocky stiffened beside me. He’d gone from teasing to all business in a breath. “Stay behind me,” he growled.

“Why?”

That’s when the first shot rang out.

The night exploded. Bark flew off trees, and a bullet whistled so close to my head I felt the heat of it pass.

“Down!” Rocky shouted, shoving me behind a rotted stump. The other brothers fanned out, weapons drawn, growling low and feral. That wasn’t just rage, it was instinct, wild and barely human.

More shots cracked. Someone returned fire. The forest lit up like a war zone. I scrambled for cover, my palms muddy and shaking, heart pounding so hard I could barely hear over it.

And then I smelled it. Blood. The coppery tang filled my nose, sharp and wrong.

I turned toward the noise just in time to see something blur through the shadows. It was huge, bigger than life, fast as hell. Not quite human, not quite beast. And it wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t one of us , either.

“Rocky!” I screamed, but he was already mid-shift. I’d seen it once before, but this time, there was no ceremony. No build-up. One moment, he was man—tattooed, broad, furious. The next, fur exploded from his skin, bones cracked and reshaped, and he hit the ground as a massive gray wolf.

Everything inside me screamed to run.

But I didn’t.

I saw the monster lunge for him, teeth bared. They collided in a blur of snarls and claws, fur and gore. Rocky’s wolf form was a damn sight to behold, powerful and terrifying and noble all at once. But even he was struggling.

Something hit me. Hard.

I cried out, hitting the ground, breath knocked clean from my chest. A second figure loomed over me. It wasn’t like Rocky. It wasn’t anything like him. This one had jagged yellow eyes, warped limbs. Half-wolf, half-something else. Its mouth opened and the stench of rot poured out.

It raised a clawed hand.

I rolled.

Too slow.

Pain exploded in my side. Warmth followed—blood. My blood.

I screamed. But no one heard me over the chaos.

I was going to die. Right here, in the dirt, in the middle of nowhere.

Then I saw him—Rocky. Not the wolf. The man. Covered in blood, eyes blazing with a fury I’d never seen before. He tore through the brush and reached me in a blink. Fell to his knees beside me.

“Birdie, look at me,” he said, voice rough with fear. “You’re hurt bad.”

I tried to nod. It felt like everything was fading. My body was going numb, cold from the inside out.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “I can’t lose you. I won’t .”

His hands hovered over the gash on my side, shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You might hate me for this later, but I don’t got a choice.”

“What?” I thought, but my mouth didn’t move. I was dying.

That’s when I felt it.

His teeth.

He bit me.

Right above the wound, not hard enough to maim, but hard enough to do something . It burned. My skin lit up like someone poured gasoline through my veins and struck a match.

I screamed. Loud.

And then everything went black.

I woke up in the clubhouse.

The Wild Dog. I knew it even before I opened my eyes—could smell the leather and beer, hear the murmur of voices and the hum of motorcycle engines in the distance. My body ached, like I’d gone ten rounds with a freight train.

“Eliza,” I croaked, my throat raw.

She was there in a flash, brushing hair from my face with tears swimming in her eyes. “Oh my God, Birdie. You scared the hell out of me.”

“What happened?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“You were attacked. Rocky... he saved you. But you were losing too much blood. He had to...”

The memories slammed back into me. The monster. It’s claws. The blood. The bite.

“No,” I whispered. “He bit me.”

Eliza nodded, biting her lip. “He didn’t have a choice. You were dying.”

I turned my head and saw him.

Rocky.

Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, face shadowed and unreadable.

I sat up fast, my vision spinning. “You bit me.”

“I did,” he said. No apology in his voice. Just truth. “I’d do it again.”

“What does that mean , Rocky?” I snapped. “What did you do to me?”

He walked in slowly, as if afraid I’d bolt. He should’ve been afraid. I was two seconds from grabbing a damn pool cue and using it like a javelin.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said. “But... the bite changes things. You were dyin’, Birdie. I did what I had to do.”

“Stop saying that!” My voice cracked. “What changes ? Am I gonna die? Grow a tail? What, Rocky?”

Silence.

“You’re gonna shift. Not now. It takes time. But it’s comin’. And once it starts, there ain’t no going back.”

My mouth went dry. “You’re telling me I’m gonna become like you ?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ.” I stood too fast, staggered, but caught myself. “You had no right—”

“You were dyin’! ” he shouted back, finally letting the emotion crack through. “I couldn’t just let you bleed out in the dirt, Birdie. Not you. Never you.”

Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to run. I wanted to crawl into his arms and let the whole world burn around us .

Instead, I said the one thing I knew would cut deepest.

“You should’ve let me die.”

He flinched. Like I’d taken a bat to his ribs.

Eliza gasped. “Birdie...”

Rocky’s jaw clenched. “I’ll give you space. You wanna hate me? Fine. I’ll wear that. But you’re alive.”

Then he walked out, leaving me alone with my fury, my fear... and the fire he’d set inside me.

And somewhere deep inside, under all the pain and anger... I felt it.

A new heat.

A new wildness .

Something had awakened.

And it wasn’t going back to sleep.