Page 31 of Shift of Morals (Shifter Lords #2)

Seymour sat in the pack still as a stone, and I chuffed a laugh. Six months ago, if anyone had told me I’d be hunting rogue magic users with a vicious flytrap sidekick, I would have laughed my ass off.

And now, here we were, held to some odd truce, hunting down the source of magic that had resulted in me being forced into a wedding I never wanted.

Soon enough, the scent trail overwhelmed my thoughts, and all my focus went toward tracking it down. It took almost an hour, but I finally stopped, the scent strongest right at the edge of the fence line.

I lifted my head and stumbled, my back legs going out from underneath me.

We were at the edge of Evie’s property.

I shifted to human form, Seymour’s quiver of alarm his only movement.

Dusk had fallen some time ago, a sliver of moon visible in the sky. I investigated around the fence and area but found nothing strange. Why was the magic here? Did Evie have something to do with it?

I frowned and turned, a hint of a familiar scent in the air making me freeze.

“Hello, Lord,” a male said with a deep, accented voice, his body hidden in shadow.

I inhaled, pulling the scent into my lungs.

This, whoever this was, he was the source.

“And you are?” I asked.

“You can call me Finn.” The man stepped out of the shadows, his hands tucked into his pockets.

I smelled no gunpowder or metal. Surviving a gunshot was easy, but no one liked getting shot, so I was relieved to know he wasn’t carrying any conventional weapons.

“Finn. Is there a reason you’re around this Floromancer’s property?”

The man grinned, his face full of good humor. “Easy to answer. She belongs to me.”

I froze, rage cracking through my veins like ice.

But I kept my expression neutral. I needed more information before I attacked without volition.

Evie and I had never had many personal conversations.

We were usually too busy antagonizing each other to worry about small talk.

“Belongs is a strong word,” I said. “Are you a friend of hers?”

“Did you know Evie was once married?” Finn asked.

I did. No one moved here without a thorough background check. “Does it matter?”

“She came to Scotland for a girl’s trip. A getaway to help her heart heal.”

I did not respond. I’d known the divorce was tough on her, as well as one could know who hadn’t been there or experienced the same thing. Her friends were disturbed by the request for an interview but had consented once they knew Evie was okay and trying to find a place to land.

Evie had no idea how deeply we dug into her background when she applied to move here, but once I’d met her, I’d done an even deeper dive. Not that I unearthed all the skeletons in her closet. I’d missed the one standing before me.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” I said politely.

A strange, crimson haze rolled over Finn’s eyes. His jaw tightened. “She ran from me, Lord. And I am here to claim her.”

Right. Pretty sure I was going to have to kill this fucker and put his body in a hole so deep no one would ever find him. I inhaled again, holding his scent in my mind. He’d never be able to run from me again now that I had it.

Finn smiled. “Nice trick. But I have tricks of my own.” His scent abruptly cut off, leaving only the crisp smell of wind and trees in my nose.

Not great, but even the most intelligent people screwed up. I’d still find him.

If he got away from me.

“Does Evie know you’re here to claim her?”

Another manic grin, Finn’s gaze moving to the back of Evie’s house. “She’s known for a while I’m here for her.”

I chuckled. “And she’s proven resistant to your charms?”

Finn’s attention snapped back to me. “You fancy yourself her protector, Lord. I can smell it in the air.” He shook his head. “I’ll allow you a temporary dalliance before claiming her for good.”

“I am a Lord. You allow me nothing.” Power punched through the air, proof of my claim. Claws unsheathed and my fangs elongated.

Finn rolled his eyes. “Do we have to do this tonight?” He laid his hand on his chest. “I just bought this shirt.”

I’d go for the jugular first, make it quick and easy. No need to stress Evie out too much if she walked out here. I removed the pack from my neck and laid it against a tree. Seymour lay still and silent.

If things went awry, maybe Seymour could bite him a few times.

“Evie is not yours to claim. Leave now, and I’ll allow you free passage.”

Another flash of crimson. “Don’t you know what I am?” he asked.

“I don’t give a shit what you are,” I said mildly. “I care about the woman inside that house.”

“You should care,” Finn said quietly. “I am the thing that prowls the night, the creature your mother warned you about.” Crimson magic pooled from his hand and spread over Evie’s ward. A silencing spell.

Oh goodie.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you’re very dangerous.”

Finn moved.

Pain flared in my left shoulder and collarbone. Stunned but not stupid, I hit the ground and rolled, barely avoiding decapitation. Memories slammed into me like a truck.

“You,” I growled.

“Took you long enough. I almost had you that night. But our little Evie has such a soft heart, doesn’t she? Poor timing on her part, but I’ve already forgiven her for healing you. How could she have known it was me after all her years of safety?”

“You like stalking women who don’t want you, Finn?”

“Evie wants me. She just hasn’t realized it yet.”

“That’s what all stalkers say.”

When he lunged at me this time, I was ready.

Claws and teeth and magic and fire, Finn’s power was crushing.

I dodged and ducked and got several good licks in, but I was bleeding from a dozen places, and there was something in his claws preventing me from healing.

I stumbled backward from an almost certain death blow, landing hard against a tree.

The pack lay by my feet, and I watched as Seymour’s pot rolled out.

Finn spotted it and snorted. “A gift from Evie? How very sentimental. She won’t need her plant magic once I finish molding her into her destiny.”

“You sound unhinged,” I wheezed, the poison seeping into my veins.

His eyes went full crimson this time, a bark of laughter escaping me. “You don’t like being called crazy.” I clicked my tongue. “If the shoe fits.”

Finn leapt, but Seymour was ready. The flytrap lunged for him, growing four times his regular size, and snapped down on Finn’s thigh.

Finn let out a high-pitched squeal and went down, Seymour’s special flavor of paralytic already working. I stumbled forward and snatched the flytrap up, tucking him against my chest.

Finn’s mouth worked like a fish, his eyes wide with horror. He lay on his stomach, arms and fingers twitching, his legs completely still.

Just as I’d gotten close enough to end him, Finn’s body disappeared in a flash of crimson light.

“Fuck,” I muttered, swaying on my feet. There was no way I’d make it home.

I climbed the fence, my limbs shaking like a newborn calf and forced myself onto Evie’s back porch, but as I reached for the doorknob, the world twisted in a blurry haze and my knees hit the wood hard, barking in protest. “Hold on,” I muttered to Seymour as I keeled over sideways with a loud thump.

A strange whine came from the flytrap as he tumbled from my hands.

I opened my mouth to yell for her, but I couldn’t move anything. Not even my throat.

Wheezing, I clawed at my neck, but whatever poison Finn possessed in his body had overtaken my system.

Everything slowed to a crawl, my eyes slowly closing as my strength drained.