Page 28 of Savage Mates
A low rumble erupting from the trees was something I understood clearly. There was no mistaking the sound, the depth and pitch.
The creatures following us were lions, only there was something off about them. What I did know is that they were poised for a strike.
“You can’t handle this,” I said in a slight singsong, soft voice. “You certainly can’t handle what you’re about to face. I have a suggestion for you. Run.” Whether or not he took my advice I had no time to care about.
I took off running, doing my best to whack from one side to the other, but the heavy, thunderous steps behind me left me no choice but to sprint through the trees, praying to find any way of escaping them.
Tree limbs hit me in the face, thick vines forcing me to stumble. Suddenly, I tripped on something and my body was pitched forward, my palms and knees hitting the ground. Pain tore up the length of my arms, but I scrambled to my feet, tossing a single look over my shoulder.
Rory was nowhere to be seen.
Panic ripped through my mind, terror pushing me forward.
A single roar ripped through the trees, birds scattering.
Pop!
A single shot echoed and I jerked to a halt, biting my lower lip to keep from crying. I couldn’t tell the direction where it came from. Where the hell had the trained soldier gone? What had the bastard done? We’d interfered with the lions, not the other way around.
This was so bad.
I lunged forward again and this time, multiple footsteps pounded the earth. Keeping time with me.
My heart was in my throat and I slipped behind a tree, clinging to the bark as I tried to catch my breath. This was crazy. The lions weren’t behaving like what I was used to.
Please God, don’t let me die.
A tickling sensation just behind my ear caught me off guard. It felt as if I was being warned. The thought was ridiculous, but there was something there.
No, there was someone hovering in the shadows other than the lions who’d been chasing me.
Whatever species it was that had been trailing behind the lions had stopped as well. Dr. Abbott had reminded me that leopards were known to inhabit the Philippines. Maybe. Yet my instinct told me otherwise.
At this point, I had no clue if I was being hunted by man or beast. There were too many scents. Too many odd thoughts racing through my mind. Either way it didn’t matter. I was in extreme danger. I pulled up the GPS realizing I’d gotten off course. Shit.
Disorientation hit me as several wild birds cawed above the canopy of trees and I caught sight of hundreds of them trying to escape.
Panting, I had a choice to make. Use the machete or drop it and reach for my gun.
Another eerie feeling swept through me and I slowly shifted, glancing at the tree.
Into the eyes of three huge lions.
Three huge male lions.
These lions weren’t the ones from the night before. I was positive. Yet they were abnormally large, malformed in a way that I couldn’t fully explain.
As if altered in a laboratory.
Oh, dear God. All the stories, all the rumors were true. Marcus Blackwell had played God and lost.
Their eyes were wild. Saliva dripped from their jowls and something else stained their golden fur.
Blood.
Had they been involved with the attack the night before?
They weren’t just wild. They were feral. There was something wrong with them, something far more dangerous than a natural predator.
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