This Dark Wolf (Soul Bitten Shifter #1) - Everly Frost Page 0,99

not a normal shotgun, and he has to be some kind of warlock.

The enormous man holding Bridget glows icy blue, but he doesn’t carry any weapon that indicates what kind of supernatural he is.

I don’t care what they are. Bridget’s retaliation is weak now.

She’s dying.

On the ground nearby, Iyana hasn’t risen to her feet, and I can’t see Danika in the sky—can only pray that they’re both alive.

I launch into a run. I can’t let the enormous man kill Bridget, but I won’t reach him in time with my human speed.

Without thinking, I release my wolf.

She leaps ahead of me, speeding across the distance toward the enormous man. She is dark again, her energy more inky than Tristan’s wolf.

She reaches the man in seconds.

Leaping at his chest, her energy rages through him. I feel the rush of air before she hits him, then the clawing, raking, tearing sensation as she passes through his body. She is not a calm force this time, but a destructive one.

Landing easily on the other side, she finds her feet and spins back to him.

He roars with pain, drops Bridget, and jolts away from my wolf, clutching at his chest where she clawed through his body. I never imagined that my wolf could hurt someone. I thought she would distract him long enough for me to reach them, but her energy was sharp like real claws. If I could see his face beneath his mask, I’m sure it would be twisted with pain.

I’m only five paces away from ramming into him when the warlock with the shotgun turns his weapon toward me.

Thunder rumbles above us as he pulls the trigger. The chamber sparks, I sense the lightning gather in the air all around me, and there’s no time—none at all—to dodge.

Lightning spears through me.

The white hot bullet hits my chest.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Pain explodes through my torso.

The impact throws me back onto the pavement where my head hits, the blow stunning me. Light bursts around me as I fall, sparks leaving my body, lightning running off me in liquid streams. It pools around my arms, hands, and fingertips as I lie with my head turned to one side, trying to understand why I’m not dead.

I repel magic.

But damn, that hurt.

A shadow looms over me and once again, I scream at myself to move.

The warlock with the gun tilts his head, looking down at me, his weapon lowered. I can’t see anything beneath his face mask, not what he looks like, or read anything from his expression.

All he says is, “Fuck.”

My chest feels like it’s on fire. I might repel magic, but the physical impact has knocked the air out of me. I manage to roll to the side as the pools of liquid lightning disappear into the ground.

I push myself up just in time to see the warlock run to the enormous man and grab his arm.

They both glance back at me a second before they disappear.

I blink at the spot where they were located a second ago.

Across the parking lot, two wounded shifters pull their unconscious comrades into the SUV while Dawson shouts at them to hurry up. Another second later, the doors slam and the vehicle squeals out of the parking lot toward the bridge.

I drag myself to my feet, stumble, and drop back to the ground while my wolf whines, her head lowered to Bridget several paces away. Beside my wolf, Iyana is finally recovering, gripping her chest, her face pale.

“Tessa!” she calls, her voice weak.

Wings flap above us and Danika’s hawk plummets to the ground, her feathers singed. She’s gripping the duffel bag, collapsing onto it before she shifts back to her human form, smoke rising from her back.

Bridget doesn’t move.

My heart wrenches as I drag myself the last few feet to her side.

Ice particles cover her arm where the enormous man held her, extending all the way from her wrist to her shoulder. The icy burn also spreads around her neck and halfway up her left cheek.

Her lips are blue, but when I lean over her, the faintest breath warms my cheek.

I told Tristan we wouldn’t need backup. I told him we’d be fine. I allowed Bridget to come with us. I regret every one of those decisions.

Bridget was my responsibility. Tristan entrusted a member of his pack to me—albeit one I had an issue with—and now she’s hurt.

We’re all hurt.

My wolf whines again, lowering her nose to Bridget’s cheek, but the contact doesn’t make any difference to the ice burn. My