our spirits’ ruination. The brown wolf stills as though he’s just now understanding what he’s up against. As though our shattered, jagged pieces are on full display.
You’re a fucking stain.
A malignancy of our kind.
A disgrace to Totemic shifters everywhere.
An intensity enters his bright tawny eyes, and we glare at him, chest heaving, ready for him to deny us, to put us down now that he’s seen what we really are. It should hurt, the way he’s looking at us. The way his gaze confirms the horrible things spat at us by lesser wolves. But right then, there’s too much hate in our hearts to care. Too much violence. If he tries to kill us instead of claim us, we will go down in a fury of teeth and claws.
He stares at us, those bright brown eyes looking like they’re staring straight through our soul. Instead of going for my throat, he makes a noise low in his. With a clear order, the wolf I dominated and almost killed whines, crawling with his belly scraping the rock of the cave, ears pressed back and tail tucked as he slinks away slowly. We try to snap at him, to still go for that killing blow, and he yelps when we lunge, but we’re once again thwarted by the huge brown wolf.
The other one turns and races away as fast as his limp and trodden pride can carry him, and then it’s just the two of us again.
We snarl at the male my wolf thought was worthy of us, furious that he let those males get away, but he just watches us as though he’s puzzling things out. We snap at him, and he gives a warning growl, daring us to take our anger out on him. But instead of the warning putting my reactions in check, it drives my wolf harder to do just that.
Someone has to pay. It may as well be him.
Chapter Ten
In a split second, everything changes for me and my wolf. We stop pulling in the tantalizing scent of this male, stop looking at him as though there’s a future there, and instead, we view him as the enemy.
My wolf studies him, quickly assessing the best way to take him on. The tension in the cave rises, and the hair on our spine rises with it. There’s an electric charge all around us as though lightning is threatening to strike at any moment. And just when my wolf is ready to charge, to attack, to maim him in an unleashing of our savage ire, the brown wolf does something that makes us pause.
In a shift so fluid and seamless, he rises from four legs to two. His skin absorbs his fur, muzzle reduces until his jaw is squared and chiseled, his fangs now a row of straight white teeth. Eyes the color of tanned leather stare me down, and shoulder length carob-brown hair frames his magnificent face. He’s solid muscle, pure dominance, and sex on a fucking stick.
“Shift,” he commands, his voice deep, powerful, and undeniable.
The order washes through us, demanding that we bend to its will. My wolf and I are all rage, wrath, and fury. We’re lost to the rabid call of our broken nature, but dominance rolls off this male in waves, and for some reason, my wolf wants to answer it. It’s not that we have to, but something in his command and his presence makes us feel as though it’s safe to.
Shock slams through me as my wolf submits. One minute she’s there, driving us to attack, to force this wolf to pay the price of his betrayal with his own blood. Then the next thing I know, she’s retreating inside of me as though this male’s order is the voice of reason she’s been so desperate for. That he might just be the glue that could pull us back together.
My bones crack and fur recedes as my wolf abandons me. No longer cloaked in her protection, I rise shakily on two feet, all the emotions and savage struggle still boiling my blood. My wolf has heeded his command, submitted to his dominance, and left me feeling crazed and fuming, still needing to rampage. I eye the stranger under my lashes with a fierce glare, resentment crawling under my skin for what he just did. He might’ve won over my wolf, but I’m full of so much vehement violence that I’m trembling with it.
He studies me with interest, and the distinct smell of