He laughed at the simplicity of the plan that could ultimately ruin them. "The bearswan will be looking for a way to be with him."
"And?"
He smiled wryly. "I think it's time for you to brew one of your potions."
Cosette laughed as she finally understood.
Pleased with himself, Eli folded his arms over his chest. Soon those parasites would be gone and if he played his cards right, he would also eliminate his greatest obstacle of all.
The wolves who had taken his seat away from his family on the Omegrion.
Oh, yes . . . this was about to get good. Fang couldn't breathe as he lay on the bed in wolf form. His branded shoulder was killing him. The mark burned in a way that made him want to tear his own arm off.
What is wrong with me?
The pain was excruciating as he pawed at the bed, trying to bury himself inside the white and blue quilt. Nothing eased the pain. No position or stretch.
Panting, he felt like his insides were being shredded. I'm giving birth to the alien in Alien. . . . Every sound made was too loud for his ears. Every heartbeat tore through his skull.
He wanted to kill something.
The scent of blood hung in his nostrils, enticing him. Calling him . . .
If you kill the bears, you can take their powers and have Aimee.
He scowled at the foreign voice in his head. Was he losing his mind?
What did they really do for you? Nothing. They threw your brother out and left him to fend for himself and his mate. They don't care about any of you. Pay them back for what they did to Vane and Wren.
Death to the bears. . . .
Fang shook his head, trying to clear it of the hostile anger. What was wrong with him? He felt drunk as sounds echoed around him and his vision dimmed.
"Fang?"
He heard Aimee's voice as she appeared in his room. She looked like a sugary morsel, standing in front of his dresser with the light shining in from the window to highlight her pale hair. The shadows played on her skin, cutting angles across her beautiful face. It reminded him of the way she'd looked the first time he'd seen her at Sanctuary.
But tonight, he didn't want her kindness.
The demon inside wanted her blood.
"Go away," he growled at her. He didn't want to be around her while he felt like this. He didn't have control of himself or the demon. It was growing larger and it was seeping through every part of him.
Violent and lethal, he was afraid of himself.
He didn't know how much longer he could hold it off. May the gods help her if it broke free while she was with him. The hatred and desire to cause her pain was ever harsh and demanding.
Don't let me hurt her. . . .
But he wasn't sure he could abide by that. The hunger inside him was too great.
Aimee hesitated at the feral sound of Fang's tone in her head. Something was obviously wrong with him. Uncertain as to what it was, she moved closer and held her hand out to stroke his fur. "What's wrong, baby?"
He turned on her and snapped at her hand as if he'd gone mad. One minute he was a wolf and in the next human.
He came off the bed, stalking her. Completely naked, his body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His cheeks were dusted by whiskers as his damp hair fell into his eyes. Every muscle of his tawny body was taut and corded as if he were pulling back from lashing out.
A new wave of fear consumed her as she backed up. There was a predatory gait to his walk. One that said he was assessing her as prey.