Beast of Shadows - Krista Street Page 0,17

fast for her. He feints to the right, her leg never making contact, and then he’s on her. His entire weight sits on her chest, pinning her in place. She screams again, but this time her cry is a high shrill.

It’s the sound a prey makes when they know they’re going to die.

No! I fight harder, clawing and thrashing inside him.

But it’s no use.

His mouth opens, her throat calling to him. Her carotid artery flutters in her swan-like neck, and the sound of her heart, beating as rapidly as hummingbird wings, only calls to him more.

I’m sorry.

Agony grips me when he lunges at her. Whatever control I had over him is gone. His teeth lock onto her throat at the same time her hands clasp his neck, her fingers digging into his fur as her caramel-and-sunshine scent—tinged with the sour stench of fear—permeates our senses.

I wait for it—the taste of her blood filling our mouth and the sound of gurgling from her voice box as her body bleeds out.

But it doesn’t come.

The beast pulls back. Bite marks are evident on her skin, and her fingers still dig into his scruff.

He inhales again, his face only inches away from hers. Wild eyes meet his as her entire body goes still.

She’s going into shock. I can see it in the glaze of her eyes and the way her face goes slack.

Brianna! I silently call to her.

A whimper fills the sedan, but Brianna’s lips never part. It takes a moment before I realize it came from the beast. He pulls back more, confusion flooding his senses, before the need to run, to flee, nearly overwhelms him.

But I can’t leave her. Not this time.

I struggle to get him out of the car, wiggling his huge wolf body awkwardly through the broken window before the warmth of the sun shines on our back.

I force the shift, and surprisingly, the beast doesn’t fight me.

A second later, I’m naked on the ground. The basketball shorts I’d worn earlier are torn halfway up the side, but they’re still wearable. I frantically slip them on, yanking the drawstring into a knot so they don’t fall off, before I fly to the car door.

A locked door greets me, and inside Brianna’s trembling body makes my stomach plummet.

I rip the door off the hinges, not having the patience to search for the lock on the other side of the broken window.

“Brianna? Bri?” I say to her.

I tense, waiting for another kick, but she doesn’t fight me when I climb over the seat toward her. Rapid breaths make her chest rise shallowly, and her complexion is terrifyingly white. Puncture wounds mar her neck, and small trickles of blood run down her skin.

I wince.

I did that to her when I let the beast gain control.

A part of me is afraid to get any closer. I could lose control again, and the beast could finish what he started. But I don’t feel him trying to assert his dominance. If anything, he’s retreated to a deep dark corner within my belly, agitation oozing from him, but something else rises off his deranged mind.

Confusion.

He’s as entirely confused by this situation and his reaction as I am.

Being careful not to jar her, I inch more over her. Her long, toned body is clenching, her muscles spasming as she shivers.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

As gently as I can, I lift her from the seat and carry her back to the cabin. When the bright sunshine hits her face, her pupils constrict, but she doesn’t close her eyes.

My jaw tightens. I bound up the steps two at a time until we’re inside. Making quick work of the few blankets I have, I spread them out awkwardly while still holding her. Once the makeshift bed is complete, I lie her down.

Her gaze is still vacant, her face still pale. “Brianna?” I call.

She blinks, but it’s as if she doesn’t see me.

“Brianna?” I run a finger down her neck to the bite marks. My chest heaves again when I see what the beast did.

But as soon as I make contact with the shallow puncture wounds, Brianna lurches from my grasp.

“Stay away from me!” Her eyes are wild, but my relief at her return to the land-of-the-living is short lived when she grabs a thick jagged stick from the floor.

It had sat near the fireplace, beside a small pile of firewood, one of many things left behind in this forgotten cabin. But I don’t have time to comprehend what she intends

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