Page 119 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

It was heavier than I thought it would be, and more difficult not to let slide from my fingers because of all the blood. I knotted my fist more tightly into the hair, the jostling motion sending a scattering of crimson over the dirt path as I stepped down from the cabin door.

“Back in a jiffy,” I called to my still-slumbering mates and friends on the cabin floor, a strange chuckle bubbling up from my chest. I choked it back, knowing distantly that this…this was not funny.

This was fucked up.

I was fucked up.

A small bark of a laugh escaped, and I bit my lower lip, wondering offhandedly if this was what it was like to go insane. But no, insane people didn’t know they were going insane, right?

Which meant I was the opposite of insane. I was the most sane I’d ever been.

Yeah. Let’s roll with that.

I shifted my trophy to my other hand, trying to find a better grip there before I dropped it, doing my best not to limp as I walked. The bastard had gotten me pretty good in the kneecap before I could finish shifting, but it was already starting to heal.

The cold air kissed the sweat and blood covering my body and my hard breaths bloomed in misty clouds around my lips.

Heads turned as I approached. Already, the air was tense with anticipation. Some of them might have heard the scuffle before I reemerged from Charity’s cabin. They’d likely dismissed it as nothing more than a disagreement, more than likely something to do with Clay.

Any other time, I’d have thought the same. This time, however, they were wrong.

A girl I forgot the name of screamed, her hands moving to cover her mouth as she saw what I carried at my side, bouncing against my naked thigh.

Seth, who’d been rushing forward, slowed to a hesitant walk, his eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

The door to Ryland’s cabin opened with a clatter a second later, once I was very nearly at the exact spot he’d indicated I should be after exactly ten minutes.

He flew down the steps in a rage, and I tossed the severed head into his path, forcing him to move out of the way or be hit by it. A splatter of vampire blood splashed in an arc over his face, slicing it in two.

“He said I shouldn’t fight you,” I called, breathless in my rage, wanting him to understand that he had failed. “Said I should take a knee and accept my fate.”

I caught my breath, rolling my shoulders back, reveling in how the color bleached from his cheeks, leaving them looking hollow and dark. “As you can imagine, we had a bit of a disagreement on the subject.”

His spite-filled eyes locked onto mine, hot with the presence of his wolf.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he bellowed.

I tipped my head to the left, cracking my neck, shuddering at the sweet relief.

“No more talking,” I snapped, my voice cracking through the morning like a whip as I lowered my body into a fighter’s stance like Clay had taught me, pressing into the earth with my heels, ready to let my wolf spring free.

I spat what remained of the vile tasting blood from my mouth and dragged the back of one hand over my lips.

“Come on, you coward!” I called, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice.

The other shifters moved away, giving us space. From the corners of my eye, I saw Seth rush away, back in the direction of Charity’s cabin. Good. I didn’t think I’d hurt anyone when I shifted, but it was better to be sure.

“Wait!” Sam called, drawing my attention to where she was, emerging from the front door of the cabin, a fast healing yellowish-purple bruise on her cheek.

Ryland chose that moment to attack, using my distraction to get a cheap hit. His shoulder knocked into my stomach, and I careened through the air.

By the time my feet were back on the ground, they were canine. No longer human. My side ached, the ribs there almost definitely broken, if not at least fractured. But there wasn’t time to dwell on that.

He came at me again, this time with fangs and claws. Faster than I ever could have anticipated.

His large black body blotted out the light as he knocked me down, and a deep, penetrating pain ripped through the back of my neck, making me buck and a cry out as a hot wetness slid down my back and shoulders, matting into my fur.

I inhaled dirt and gave myself over to instinct, snapping my jaws as I rolled out and away.

Ryland advanced again. His commanding alpha’s voice ricocheted through my skull.

Stay.

For a fleeting instant, I couldn’t move. My paws were glued to the earth, my heart all but stopped dead in my chest.

For that single second, I didn’t think I was going to be able to stop him as he lunged for my throat, his teeth dripping blood as he opened his jaw wide. Feral.

I could see the victory in Ryland’s predatory stare, as if it were all over and he’d already won.

But something snapped inside of me. Something that had been pulled taut for far too long. The bond stretching, cracking, breaking.

A veil of red-hot murder stole over my eyes, tinging everything in its vermillion hue. I feinted to the right and lurched forward, lifting myself high above him.

Like I knew he would, he turned, realigning himself for the kill, giving me the perfect opening to his jugular. Without hesitation, I sank my teeth through flesh and fur. Deeper, to muscle, sinew, and bone.

An explosion of hot, coppery liquid filled my mouth and I was rewarded with a strangled cry. I pressed him into the dirt, biting down harder, an ache throbbing in my jaw.

Delirious with blood lust, I barely registered the loud crack! filling my ears and flicking against my teeth in his throat. I barely noticed how he stopped moving. Or how the blood in my mouth had gone cold.

I held on, even as a convergence of thoughts raced through my mind. Mine, and not mine.

He’s dead.

She killed him. Ryland!

Allie, let go.

Allie, you need to let go.

I growled, sensing someone coming up on my flank. As though from beneath water, I heard someone else screaming. Not a scream of fear. The bloodcurdling cries of someone in agonizing, torturous pain. It was enough to bring me out of whatever primal thought process had taken over my body and mind.

My growls subsided and my jaws loosened, teeth extracting from deadened meat. Gaining the distance, I needed to see what everyone else saw. The glazed ruddy-brown eyes of a dead black wolf, his throat mangled and gaping, oozing blood over the dirt at my paws.

I yelped and leapt back, eager to put distance between myself and the irrefutable proof of my savagery. Because if I were being honest with myself, it wasn’t my wolf that’d done this. I couldn’t blame some primal instinct or an uncontrollable second self. Not fully.

Not anymore.

I could see it now. Feel it.

As a single living, breathing being—as I’ve always been—I did this.

Not my wolf. There is no wolf. There is only…me.