Slade (Team Greywolf 1)

A deep growl emanated from Slade’s throat. “My fault.” His shirt buttons snapped as his beast clawed its way for dominance.

“You can’t blame yourself. You had business in Europe.”

Why the fuck did everyone buy that bullshit? He left without his father’s permission. Slade dug his claws into the chair. “They forced our juvenile wolves to undergo the change years before their time. I could have saved them.”

“I understand your guilt, but you are not to blame. The attack was unexpected.”

His tone deepened. “It was my turn to guard them. Protect them. Instead, a beta watched them while, as my father said, ‘I went gallivanting in Europe.’ ” He growled. “They suffered in agony because of the hybrid’s fucking bite.” Slade’s heart drummed, blood boiled and his bones cracked, shifting. Out of control.

“Prince Slade, take a deep breath.” Warner sounded composed, but his pulse raced. He stood and opened the door. “Step inside the cell.”

Slade inhaled and slowly released his breath. The wolf retreated into its den. He remained human. “I’m all right.”

“You are not. Go inside. Let your wolf release his anger.”

No confinement. Slade glared at Dr. Warner. “No,” he rasped. His chest heaving, ready to roar, ready to destroy, ready to kill. He growled at the shrink.

Warner set off the alarm, rushed into the cell, and sealed himself in.

Slade’s clothes ripped, and he shifted. The large white wolf charged at the doctor, but the glass door prevented him from reaching him. He roared and then howled deep and long.

Blue light illuminated the chamber. Meant to calm him. The wolf shook his head. Nothing helped. His thoughts clouded with fury.

Outside, Cricket wiggled the doorknob, but it had automatically locked. “Slade! Open the door!”

More voices. Male.

One of the men demanded, “Stand back.”

“No, give him time,” shouted Cricket.

The wolf cocked his head. Angered by the stress in her voice, Slade raked at the door, growling to escape. Join her.

The man outside the door commanded, “Return to your station, upstairs.”

“Yes, sir,” Cricket snapped.

She left. Slade howled in rage. No. Mine.

One of the men spoke, “Prince Slade, I’m Commander Trevor. I implore you, sir, return to human form, and we’ll open the door.”

Slade lowered himself to his belly in stalking position. No tranquilizers.

“Talk to me, sir,” implored their commander.

His cunning beast went partial human. “Put down your tranquilizer guns and taser, and I will do as you say.”

“Is Dr. Warner, okay?” asked Trevor.

“Safe inside the sealed chamber.” His upper lip twitched. Where the coward belonged.

“Good. Are you fully human or partial?”

Warner banged on the window and shouted, but in the soundproof room, not even a werewolf could hear him. Slade grinned at the shrink. Fool.

“Turn on the intercom,” commanded Trevor.

“No need, Dr. Warner wants you to let me out,” said Slade.