Page 23 of Shadow (Marinah and the Apocalypse #1)

Marinah

T he day had been far too perfect, and I should have known it wouldn’t end well. I was trapped in a cave with an injured Shadow Warrior while someone out there was actively trying to kill him. The injured party in question seemed to think the best way to recover was by practically having me in his lap. I had lost track of how long we had been sitting like this, his body radiating heat, his presence an overwhelming mix of protection and danger.

The cave was cool, so his body heat wasn’t leaving me a sweaty mess. Strangely, I momentarily felt safe, even knowing we could be found at any moment.

The sun sank lower, its fading light casting shadows across the cave walls. My anxiety ramped upward with the waning daylight. King’s steady breathing deepened, softening into a faint snore. It was only then, with him finally asleep, that I allowed myself to take a good, long look at a Shadow Warrior in beast form.

He was breathtaking.

If I had to compare him to anything, it would have been a pre-apocalypse made-for-television wolfman. But no werewolf could match the sheer power and ferocity of this creature. His body was covered in short, dense hair that glinted faintly in the dim light, replacing the smooth skin I had grown accustomed to seeing. His legs were massive, built for power, while his arms had grown longer, the muscles rippling beneath the fur. Wickedly sharp claws tipped his fingers, glinting faintly as they twitched in his sleep.

But it was his face that had changed the most.

Where his skull had once been rounded, it was now elongated, the structure wider and stronger. His jaw was a masterpiece of lethal design, with enormous teeth overlapping in a way that made it seem impossible for him to fully close his mouth. And yet, he looked peaceful.

I didn’t understand why I wasn’t afraid of him. Every instinct should have been screaming at me to keep my distance, but I felt none of that. His beast didn’t frighten me any more than King himself did. Maybe because this form was such a large part of the man.

Curiosity won over caution, and I lifted a hand, brushing my fingers along his upper lip. The fur there was soft but bristly, poking against my skin as I traced the line to where his jaws connected. His sheer size was mesmerizing.

Unable to resist, I shifted to my knees, leaning closer to his throat. His scent was stronger here, earthy, wild, and uniquely him. It wasn’t unpleasant, though it was unlike anything I had ever known.

A shudder rippled through his body, the sudden movement startling me. The cave grew warmer almost instantly, a more intense wave of heat radiating from him. I had noticed this before, how the air around him seemed to change when he was agitated or unwell.

His warmth seeped further into me, chasing away the chill of the evening. I hoped it meant his body was fighting back and he was healing. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay here forever.

I glanced toward the cave’s entrance, the fading light making it harder to see beyond the narrow opening. Worry knotted in my chest. What if his team didn’t find us? What if the people hunting him came back?

His arms tightened slightly, calming me despite my growing fear. I stroked his fur lightly, my fingers lingering on the soft bristles, and whispered, “Please heal. We need to get out of here.”

King’s beast eyes fluttered open, their vivid blue practically glowing in the dim light. His monstrous head turned, and his snout brushed through my hair, inhaling deeply near my neck. The sensation was oddly ticklish, sending a shiver down my spine.

“How are you doing?” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the darkened cave.

“Grrr.”

“I’ll take that as ‘okay,’” I replied, holding his gaze. His eyes were calculating, but he wasn’t attacking me. So far, so good.

“They must be up in the rocks,” a voice carried from below. The distinctly American accent made my heart lift for a moment, relief flooding me at the thought that King’s men had found us.

Beast reacted differently.

He rose quickly, pulling me back against the cave wall with surprising gentleness. He positioned himself to the side of the entrance, his massive frame ready to strike.

It wasn’t his men.

“There’s the bike,” another voice said. “We need to eliminate them both. I think he took a bullet. If he’s injured, he’ll be easier to kill.”

“They’re talking about killing us,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. “Who are they?”

King’s beast didn’t respond, his focus locked on the danger.

I scanned the cave, my eyes landing on the knife King had used earlier to cut away his shirt. It was still sitting on the saddlebag, a lifeline within arm’s reach. Slowly, carefully, I inched along the wall toward it, my movements slight to avoid drawing attention.

Beast’s glowing eyes tracked me, but he didn’t stop me as my fingers closed around the knife’s hilt. The metal felt solid and reassuring in my grasp.

With the knife secured, I continued edging toward the entrance, determined to be ready for whatever came next.

A sudden rumble echoed from above the cave. King’s monstrous head tilted upward, his nostrils flaring. He raised one long-clawed hand in front of his jaws, a clear signal for me to stay silent.

“His fucking men are here,” the voice below said urgently. “We’ll get them another time. We need to leave, or they’ll find us.”

The sound of movement faded, and their voices disappeared.

Silence settled over the cave, broken only by the faint rustle of the wind outside. King didn’t relax, his body still coiled like a spring, ready to strike.

I gripped the knife tightly, unsure if this reprieve would last.

Minutes passed before a sharp whistle from above broke the silence. King moved out of the cave, his massive form shifting with ease despite his injury. “Circle around,” he called to his men, his voice surprisingly clear even with his misshapen jaws.

I watched him, my mind spinning with questions. There was so much about Shadow Warriors that I didn’t understand though not for my job as Secretary of Defense, for myself. If I couldn’t fully grasp who they were, what they were, I’d be no good to anyone. Not to me, King, or the Federation.

It took ten minutes for his men to maneuver below us. King’s clawed hand reached for mine, and he helped me to my feet. Standing beside him, I was struck by how much taller and more massive he was.

He had been mostly well-behaved, his earlier misstep with my breast aside. For all his warnings, I couldn’t quite understand why he had been so concerned. I could handle a momentary stray hand.

As we descended the rocks, I realized something strange. I hadn’t worried about my footing since King was shot. Not once had I stumbled. Maybe miracles really did happen.

When we reached the base, half of the men waiting below were in beast form, their imposing figures standing out even in the fading light. Yet King somehow seemed larger. Beck, who I gathered was King’s second, remained in human form, his sharp eyes scanning the area.

“Track them,” King ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Who’s hurt?” Beck asked, his focus shifting to King.

“King was shot in the shoulder,” I answered before King could, ignoring the tension in the air. “He wouldn’t let me remove the bullet, and he’s still bleeding.”

Beck arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t address me directly but turned back to King. “Can you ride?”

“Yes,” King replied, his voice clipped. “The bullet is being pushed out.”

“We need to get you back,” Beck said. “The woman can ride with me.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before King moved. Despite his size, he was shockingly fast. Beck hit the ground a second later, sprawled in the sand.

Dusting himself off as if nothing had happened, Beck rose and nodded his head. “Now that it’s settled,” he said dryly, “she rides with you.” Without another word, he directed half the men to follow the fresh tracks leading away from the bike.

I glanced at King, who was already turning to mount his motorcycle. His movements were defiant, as if daring anyone to challenge him again.

All righty, then. Looked like I was hanging onto a Shadow Warrior in beast form. Here’s hoping he knew how to drive.

There was even less room on the back of the bike with King’s larger frame, but I managed to sit and grab hold, bracing myself for the ride. It didn’t take long to realize that Beast King had zero restraint. Every corner was taken at a speed that defied logic, and the straightaways felt like he was trying to outrun the wind itself.

I clutched him tightly, my nails digging into his fur as I recited every prayer I could think of, tossing in a few ad-libs for good measure. The thrill of riding was completely gone. All I could think about now was walking on solid ground, preferably without tasting it first.

With a silent sigh of resignation, I buried my face against King’s back. His scent was uniquely him. It somehow comforted me despite my terror. If he noticed my death grip or the way my fingernails were embedded in his skin, he didn’t seem to care.

Two hours later, we finally pulled up to our quarters. I was exhausted, my legs shaky as I slid off the bike. Axel was waiting out front, his expression unreadable as he watched us approach.

King swung his leg over the bike but stumbled, his strength clearly waning. Two of the men were at his side instantly, grabbing his arms to steady him. They half-dragged him toward the building, Axel falling into step behind them.

As they passed, Axel’s sharp gaze landed on me. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was assessing. I could only hope he was checking to see if I was injured and not silently blaming me for King’s current state.

I followed them inside, thankful no one stopped me. The men carried King into the medical room and lowered him onto a bed. Axel wasted no time, unwrapping my makeshift bandage with efficient precision.

“I’m administering a shot to relax you so I can remove the bullet,” Axel said, holding up a syringe.

“No.”

King’s voice was adamant despite his obvious fatigue. He lifted a clawed hand, grabbing Axel’s wrist before he could press the needle into his skin. His glowing blue eyes swept the room, searching until they landed on me.

I stepped forward, and the men instinctively moved aside, making space.

I took King’s free hand, my fingers curling around his. His grip was firm but not painful, and slowly, he released Axel’s wrist.

“I don’t think he wants an injection,” I said softly, meeting Axel’s skeptical gaze.

The doctor exhaled heavily but didn’t argue, instead setting the syringe aside. “Fine. But this won’t be comfortable.”

I glanced down at King, his eyes still locked on mine. “I think we’ll manage.”

Axel shot me a frustrated look, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I really don’t want to lose my head or risk him attacking you when I cut into that shoulder.”

“He’s fine,” I said confidently, giving King’s enormous hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll keep his mind off what you’re doing.”

Throughout the procedure, I kept talking to King like Axel and the rest of his men weren’t in the room. “You know, I really enjoyed the cove,” I said casually. “Though getting shot just so I’d feel sorry for you was a bit much.”

Axel glanced at me with an indescribable look, half incredulous, half exasperated, but I didn’t stop.

“And that sandwich? It could’ve been more filling. I’m starving. Next time we go on a picnic, I’m handling the food.”

A low sound, almost like a stifled laugh, escaped from one of the men in the room.

Beck caught it instantly, pointing at the unlucky Shadow Warrior with a sharp grunt and a finger aimed at the door. The man scrambled out without argument.

I flashed Beck a quick smile, but he didn’t react, his expression remained hard as stone.

I kept chattering, my words filling the tense air as Axel worked. He cut a small incision at the bullet’s entry point, then pressed around the wound until the lead slid free. It was surprisingly smooth, and forceps were unnecessary.

Once the wound was cleaned, Axel wrapped it tightly with gauze. Before he finished, a commotion erupted at the door.

Two Shadow Warriors stumbled in, supporting a third between them.

“Hellhound attack,” one of them said.

Axel nodded, his face hardening as they carried the injured Warrior into a smaller room. He finished King’s bandage and followed them, leaving me alone with King and Beck.

The mention of hellhounds lingered in my mind, gnawing at me. I had managed to push their threat out of my thoughts for a short time, but the reality kept creeping back in. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the men who had tried to kill us. They didn’t just want King dead. They wanted me dead too.

Beck stepped forward, sliding a chair toward me with a faint grimace. “Here,” he said stiffly.

Before I could take it, King’s growl rumbled through the room.

“I’m just making her comfortable,” Beck said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “No touching.”

King growled again, his eyes narrowing, but his focus shifted. “Get her food,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Beck nodded and moved toward the door but didn’t leave. The two men who had carried the injured Shadow Warrior entered and stood at attention.

With King’s clarity returning, I realized he had been listening to me while the doctor worked on him.

“I made all of that up,” I admitted with a small grin as his hard gaze locked onto mine. “You think you’re so tough in this form, but really, you’re just a big baby.”

King growled low in his chest, the sound reverberating through the room as he pulled on my hand, drawing me closer.

The men tensed, their attention snapping to us as King reeled me in slowly, his massive snout brushing against my throat as he inhaled deeply. My pulse quickened, but not from fear. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

Before I could process what was happening, my cheek was pressed against his chest. His claws slid gently around my back, resting there with surprising restraint. His chest, covered in soft fur, was warm and impossibly muscular, different from the man’s strength, and even more powerful.

Being pressed against him in the room’s light, I fully realized how massive he was in this form. His other hand, resting on the bed, was easily double the size of his human one, the claws long and wickedly sharp. And yet, even with their lethal appearance, they didn’t scare me either.

Behind us, the men seemed to relax slightly as King made no move to harm me.

“We’re fine,” I said to Beck, my voice muffled against King’s chest.

“Get her food,” King commanded again, his tone more forceful this time. “Everyone out.”

The Shadow Warriors filed out quickly. Only Beck lingered, his gaze shifting between me and King. He shook his head, but whatever he was thinking, he didn’t say it. Instead, he turned silently and disappeared into the other room to check on the injured Warrior.

Left alone with King, I let myself relax for the first time in hours. Exhaustion washed over me, and I closed my eyes, appreciating the warmth of his body beneath my head.

I had no idea what was happening or why King’s beast had decided to keep me close, but I didn’t question it. There was a duality to him now, a strange coexistence of King’s presence and the wild, primal energy that belonged entirely to this form.

For now, I let myself drift, feeling safer than I ever thought I could in the arms of someone like him.

It was at least ten minutes before food arrived for both of us. King’s meal came in a large bowl, which he immediately lifted toward his mouth.

“Hold on,” I said, placing a hand on the bowl and pushing it away. “I’ll feed you.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t protest as I picked up a spoon from my plate and dipped it into the mush-like red mixture in his bowl. It looked nothing like my food, though its scent was surprisingly appetizing.

King opened his massive jaws, saliva dripping from his sharp teeth. Normally, I would have been grossed out, but his beast form was completely enthralling. As the spoon scraped against his teeth, the sound sent a shiver up my spine, lifting the hair on my arms.

“Let’s try not to do that again,” I said with a small grimace, scooping another spoonful from his bowl. “What is this, anyway?”

“Liver, blood, rice,” King said just before I pushed the spoon into his mouth.

I blinked at the answer, but instead of gagging, all I could think about was how hungry I was. Against all logic, I actually wanted to try his food.

“Definitely not sharing,” I muttered, grabbing a napkin to wipe his jaw. He rolled his eyes, the motion so distinctly King that I couldn’t help but grin.

“Am I talking to Beast or King right now?” I asked, leaning back slightly.

“Both,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.

I eyed him carefully before asking, “How’s your shoulder?”

A grunt was all I got in response. Not surprising. I tried a different question.

“Who tried to kill us?”

This time, he didn’t hesitate, his answer cutting through the air like a blade.

“The Federation.”