Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters #1) - Jaymin Eve Page 0,133
beast’s energy to the surface, hoping that my shift would be silent against the chaos outside.
The reshaping of bones was never going to be pleasant, but as more of the magic infused into my soul, it took only a blip in time, and then I was a wolf. In this form, we had laser focus, grabbing the small bag in our mouth and easing out the door. The hallway was empty, as I’d expected. The alpha and his family were always on the most expansive side of the estate, leaving the entrance on the other side to be guarded by their minions.
Once again, their cowardice was going to cost them as I snuck out like a thief in the night. This old house was full of secret entrances, small closets that led to alleys, and a laundry chute I’d used more than once to slip away from assholes chasing me. My smaller stature both in human and wolf form had done me right a couple of times.
No one crossed my path by the time I reached the rarely used laundry room. Of course, when I pushed against the door, it was firmly closed, and as much strength as my wolf had, thumbs and the ability to open doors were not part of them.
Fuck. It would require me to shift back, and then back again, but three shifts in such a short time would exhaust me to the point I’d be fairly useless if a fight broke out.
I wasted a few precious minutes contemplating other options, only to hear shifters returning to this side of the building. The distraction was over and pretty soon, I’d be trapped. Which left me with no other option. My wolf, understanding the plan, didn’t fight the shift, allowing me to slip back into our human skin. I opened the door in a flash, rushing inside and closing it firmly again.
Sucking in a deep breath as I searched for the energy to shift again, I just let go of all control and hoped my wolf would respond, doing at least half the work for me. She didn’t let me down, and when the shift hit again, the pain was worse, but it was over just as fast. I did have to pant on the ground for a minute or so to recover, but there was strength in our body as we pushed up, grabbed the bag, and headed to the wall with the exit. It was one of those old-school metal chutes, rough in places, but I’d used it enough times to know the spots to avoid.
When the fresh air hit, even more energy returned, and I moved quickly toward the creek. The water was my go-to in covering my scent and tracks, and after a few miles along this creekbank, I’d end up on a main road, ready to head straight to the school.
Fuck, I loved when a plan came together.
58
The school was shrouded in darkness. No sign of life from the outside. But my senses were stronger than that, and when I found the main theater empty, I sniffed those bastards out, finding them in a subbasement of the building. This was the room where props, costumes, and lighting were kept.
Shifters were not really into acting or school plays, but they always had one production a year. After which everything was promptly discarded to this room.
And scattered amongst it now were the upper echelons in the Torma pack.
I crawled my way along one of the rafters, following Simone’s scent. She was crouched on a platform high above the room—one of those lever-pulled wood planks that they used to move characters around the stage.
It was the perfect vantage point to observe, without being close enough that they would scent us. I couldn’t smell anyone below, not even in wolf form, so I knew we’d be safe.
“You made it just in time,” Simone murmured, reaching out to take the bag from my mouth. My change back was tough. Firstly, because my wolf didn’t want to let go when we were in a room of enemies, secondly, because my energy was depleted badly, and thirdly, because we had to do it in almost complete silence.
Simone looked on in concern as I huffed on the floor. “Had to change twice.” I groaned softly, pushing myself up. She shot me a sympathetic stare as she helped me get the clothes out and pull them over my trembling limbs. Just a pair of too-big-for-me sweats, but I felt better when