Page 22

SEVENTEEN

MAYA

E arly the next morning, Maya worked her wrists and ankles against the restraints, her enhanced senses picking up the distant beeping of monitors down the sterile hallway.

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting harsh shadows across the clinical white room that had been her prison for three endless days.

She'd spent most of the night methodically testing the thick padded cuffs on her wrists and ankles, finding that each forced partial shift had left her incrementally stronger. The restraints that had initially held her securely now had just enough give.

"Just a little more," she whispered, flexing her wrists and ankles. The leather stretched, then slackened. "There."

Maya carefully positioned her arms and legs to appear still restrained while listening to the approaching footsteps she now recognized as Dr. Sonya's. Her footsteps had shorter strides than the guards, with the distinctive tap of low heels against linoleum.

Maya's heart raced. She had exactly one chance at this.

The metal door buzzed open.

"Good morning, Ms. Collins." Dr. Sonya entered with clinical efficiency, a syringe of amber liquid prepared on her tray. "Ready for today's progression tests?"

Maya kept her eyes downcast, feigning resignation. "Do I have a choice?"

"I appreciate your cooperation today." Dr. Sonya turned to set her clipboard down, her back momentarily exposed.

In one fluid motion, Maya slipped her hands and feet free from the restraints and swung her legs off the bed. Before the doctor could turn around, she wedged the folding chair against the door, preventing it from closing completely.

Dr. Sonya spun around. "What do you think?—"

Maya pounced with a speed that surprised even herself, grabbing Dr. Sonya's wrist and twisting the syringe from her grasp.

"You've been so interested in studying transformations," Maya snarled, her canines slightly extended with adrenaline. "How about experiencing one firsthand?"

She plunged the needle into Dr. Sonya's arm, depressing the plunger fully.

The doctor's eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she crumpled to the floor. Whatever they'd been planning to inject Maya with today worked fast.

"Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?" Maya muttered, stripping off Dr. Sonya's white lab coat and slipping it over her thin hospital gown.

Maya quickly checked Dr. Sonya's pulse—steady, if rapid.

The scientist wasn't dead, just incapacitated.

Pocketing Dr. Sonya's keycard and pulling her hair back into a tight bun to better mimic the doctor's appearance, Maya peered cautiously through the doorway crack. The hallway appeared momentarily clear.

Her heightened senses detected two guards stationed around the corner—their scents distinct with gun oil, coffee, and the underlying musk that all wolf shifters seemed to share.

Maya slipped into the corridor, keeping her head down and clipboard raised as if reviewing notes. Her bare feet padded silently against the cold tile floor.

Stay calm. Act like you belong, she coached herself. You're a scientist observing specimens, not a specimen escaping.

The connection in her chest pulled stronger than ever, a compass needle pointing toward Kieran. She could feel him somewhere outside these walls—closer than before, his presence burning like a beacon of fury and determination.

He's coming for me, but I'm meeting him halfway.

Maya turned left at the junction, following instinct more than logic. The scent of fresh air—however faint—drew her forward like a lifeline. Each step away from her prison cell sent waves of elation through her trembling body.

I'm coming, Kieran. Just hold on.

She could almost feel his response, a primal growl of approval resonating through their connection. Whatever bond they shared, it was growing stronger with each passing hour.

The thought of seeing him again sent unexpected heat spreading through her body. His silver-blue eyes flashing with possessive intensity, his powerful hands pulling her against his chest, and his mouth claiming hers with that perfect mixture of dominance and tenderness.

Focus, Maya, she chided herself. Escape first, fantasize later.

But the connection pulled tighter, and somewhere in the distance, she could have sworn she heard the howl of a wolf—commanding, powerful, and unmistakably coming for her.

Keep it together. You're almost out.

Her bare feet padded against the cold linoleum floor, each step sending electric signals of freedom up her spine. The lab coat flapped softly around her legs as she moved with growing confidence.

That's when she saw them—the two guards stationed at the exit door of this underground section of the medical facility, their broad shoulders blocking her path to freedom.

One leaned casually against the wall while the other stood at attention, their scents now unmistakable—gunmetal, leather, coffee, and that musky undertone of wolf shifter.

"Hey, doctor," the taller guard called, straightening. "ID badge?"

Maya's stomach clenched. She hadn't thought to take Dr. Sonya's ID badge off her.

"I must have left it in the lab," she replied, attempting to mimic the clinical detachment of the facility's staff. "I need to get to the main level of the facility for a moment. Signal's terrible down here and I need to make an urgent phone call."

The guards exchanged glances.

"Protocol says no one exits the underground section without proper credentials," the shorter guard said, stepping forward. His eyes narrowed. "Where are your shoes, Doctor?"

Maya's heartbeat thundered in her ears as their expressions shifted from suspicion to recognition.

"It's the specimen!" The taller guard reached for his radio. "Code Red in Section?—"

"I am not a specimen!" Maya hurled the clipboard at his face with unexpected force, buying herself precious seconds.

The shorter guard lunged for her arm. Maya twisted away, but he caught the sleeve of her lab coat, yanking her backward. Panic flooded her system as memories of needles and restraints flashed through her mind.

No. Not again. Never again.

Something primal erupted inside her—a scalding heat that raced through her veins like molten fire. Her vision sharpened to crystalline clarity as the world slowed around her.

"You're not taking me back there," she snarled, her voice lowering to a register she'd never heard from her own throat.

The partial transformation began with her hands—bones cracking and reforming as her fingers shortened and nails extended into curved, lethal claws. Pain lanced through her jaw as her canines lengthened, sharp points pressing against her lower lip.

The guard's eyes widened. "Holy shit, she's shifting!"

Maya didn't recognize the feral growl that tore from her throat as she lunged forward. Her movements were fluid and instinctual—her body knowing exactly what to do even as her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening.

The first guard went down with a swipe across his chest, fabric and flesh tearing under her claws.

Blood blossomed across his uniform as he crumpled against the wall.

The second guard drew his weapon, but Maya moved with supernatural speed, knocking it from his grip before delivering a powerful kick that sent him flying into the exit door.

"You don't—" she gasped between ragged breaths, "—own me."

The guards lay groaning on the floor, wounded but alive.

Maya stood over them, her chest heaving, the scent of their blood filling her nostrils with copper and salt.

Looking down, she barely recognized her own hands—half-human, half-wolf, powerful enough to rend flesh yet still possessing opposable thumbs.

What am I becoming?

The rush of power ebbed as quickly as it had come, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. The world tilted sideways as fatigue crashed through her system. Maya staggered toward the exit door, her vision blurring at the edges.

Kieran, she thought desperately, reaching out with that strange new sense that connected them. I'm coming.

Her legs buckled beneath her, unable to support her weight any longer.

Her body totally spent from the raw power she just exerted to transform naturally.

Maya collapsed in a heap on the cold floor, the lab coat pooling around her.

Her last coherent thought before she passed out from exhaustion was of silver-blue eyes and strong arms.

Find me.

Strong arms slipped beneath Maya's limp body, lifting her from the cold tile floor. For one delirious moment, her heart soared with hope.

"Kieran?" she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering as consciousness teased her.

"Not quite," came a low voice, unfamiliar yet somehow reassuring. "I'm with Lena. Name's Eli."

Maya forced her heavy eyelids open, disappointment washing through her as she met dark green eyes instead of the silver-blue ones she craved. The man's face was lean and weathered, his dark beard neatly trimmed. Not Kieran. Not her wolf.

Kieran, where are you? she called silently through their connection, feeling the tether between them pull taut with longing.

"More guards will be here any second," Eli whispered, adjusting her against his chest. "Can you walk?"

Maya tried to nod, but her body betrayed her. The natural partial shift had drained every ounce of her energy, leaving her muscles quivering.

"Apparently not," she muttered dryly.

Eli's mouth twitched with reluctant amusement. "Lena said you were tough."

"Tough doesn't mean functional."

He carried her swiftly down a service corridor, his footsteps nearly silent despite their pace. Maya's head lolled against his shoulder, her copper hair spilling from the tight bun she'd fashioned earlier.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice a ragged whisper.

"Safe room on the east wing. Old supply closet they converted for medical storage." He paused at an intersection, scenting the air. "Don't worry, I've got clearance to be here. Supply manager by day, rebellion operative by... well, also day."

An alarm blared overhead, the shrill sound piercing through Maya's sensitive ears. She winced.

"Looks like they found your handiwork," Eli remarked, picking up speed. "Nice job on those guards, by the way. Two male wolf shifters with a single partial shift? Lena will be thrilled her theories about your genetics were right."

Maya would have preened if she wasn't halfway to unconsciousness. "Just discovered my claws naturally today. Still workshopping my technique."

Eli ducked into a narrow stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. Maya's stomach lurched with each jostling movement, but the nausea was preferable to being strapped back onto that examination bed.

Kieran, I need you, she projected through their bond. Please hurry.

Something vibrated through her chest in response—a distant growl of acknowledgment and a promise of violence to come. He was close. She could feel him like fire on the horizon.

"He's coming," she murmured. "I can feel him."

Eli glanced down at her, his eyebrows raised. "You've got a mate bond? With Kieran Silvercrest? Lena didn't mention that part."

"Is that what this is?" Maya asked, her hand pressing against her sternum where the connection burned brightest. "This... pull?"

"If you have to ask, then yes." Eli reached a heavy metal door marked with faded red lettering. "The mate bond is unmistakable once it takes hold. Makes Kieran even more dangerous right now—he'll tear this place apart brick by brick to get to you."

The thought sent an inappropriate thrill through Maya's exhausted body.

"Good," she whispered fiercely.

Eli placed her gently on a makeshift cot inside the storage room, surrounded by medical supplies and forgotten equipment. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting shadows across his concerned face.

"We're safe here for a while, but every exit is triple-guarded now. We'd need an army to fight our way out."

Maya closed her eyes and focused on the tether between her and Kieran. It pulsed with his rage, his determination, and his need.

"We don't need an army," she said with absolute certainty. "We have my mate."