Page 52 of Venom Island

It smells different from the others. Less hostile. I frown.Feminine.

I’ve never met an Alpha female, but I’m pretty sure that’s what this wolf is.

She confirms it by changing back into her human form, her skin the same color as her wolf’s coat. “Caja?” she asks.

I swallow. “Who are you?” my voice comes out scratchy.

“Francesca,” she says. “An old friend of Enrique’s.”

I blink at her.She knows Enrique?

I can see him just beyond her, his eyes closed, his throat covered in blood.Is he okay?I wonder, then whimper as my stomach clenches with discomfort.

Everything still burns.

Terror overcame me for a few minutes when that gray wolf almost made it through, helping to allow sanity to take hold. But it’s slipping again.

Gods…

“Enrique,” I breathe. He’s my anchor. My Alpha. My… mychoice.He’s been so kind to me.

And he came back.

But he’s no longer conscious.

“Caja,” Francesca says again. “Can you come out of there? We can’t stay here.”

I blink at her and shake my head. I’m not leaving this lagoon. Not until Enrique is… is… Not until he tells me to.

“Please?” she presses. “Enrique is going to wake up any minute, but he’ll need you ready to run. Can you shift?”

I shake my head. There’s no way I can let my wolf out right now. Not in this state. Not when everything is sohot.

The second I leave the water, I’ll be on fire again.

“It’s… okay,” I hear Enrique grate out, his voice scratchy. “Fran… won’t hurt you, tesoro.”

I perk up at his nickname for me, my wolf practically sighing inside.

“He’ll be good as new in a minute,” Francesca adds. “He just made the mistake of forgetting how to be a wolf.”

Enrique makes a strangled sound that I think might be a grunt.

I’m not sure where he found this Alpha or how well they know each other. But Francesca seems rather fond of him. A little too fond.

My wolf grumbles inside, sensing potential competition.

I don’t like it.

I don’t like it at all.

“Did you just growl at me, little wolf?” Francesca asks, sounding amused.

I narrow my gaze, not at all appreciating her condescending tone.

“You did,” she says with a laugh. “That’s cute.”

I snarl.It is not fucking cute.