Rejected Mate (Feral Shifters 1) - Page 47

I stumble backward out of range because I’m not too keen on joining this circus. Frost lunges after Kian, and they hit the nasty-ass carpet and roll. Frost’s head bounces off the ground, and I cringe as Kian’s open wound grinds right into the dirty carpet.

“Gonna get fucking herpes of the arm,” I mutter, bouncing back on my toes as they wrestle around and roll toward my boots. “E.coli of the blood or some shit.”

Malix appears from the bathroom, trailing the shower curtain from one knee. He falls onto Kian’s back, and Frost lets out a pained grunt as Kian’s weight slams down on his chest. Grunts, thuds, kicks, punches, cursing. It’s like watching a fucking schoolyard brawl… if the kids in a schoolyard were built like brick houses.

“Gangrene won’t kill me,” I mutter mockingly as I dance away from their flailing limbs. “But your brothers might. And I’m gonna let them.”

I return to my burrito and shove the last of it in my mouth as something shatters in the sink area. My things are still in my backpack, so thankfully, I know it’s nothing I own. The tortilla’s gone as cold as the half-frozen beef, but I just chase it down with my water.

Behind me, the bed shudders as all three men roll into the frame.

I grew up in a pack. You get used to posturing, especially in the teenage years when all your friends are coming into puberty and gaining more strength as wolves. Pack men fight like little bitches, both in human form and in wolf form. So this doesn’t bother me. I figure, either they’re going to wear each other out and come to an eventual truce, or they’re going to kill each other.

I’m honestly hoping for the latter. Would save me so much trouble.

They’re on their feet now, trading blows and snide comments. I slide up on the tabletop and cross my legs to finish my drink, ready to wait out the testosterone.

I’ve got my head tilted back as I finish off my water, when the first man shifts.

I’ve seen their wolves. I hunted with them just last night and ate my meal sitting in a circle with them.

This…

This isn’t that.

Kian’s body elongates and distorts, growing much more mass than even seems possible. He looms taller than a horse, vaguely wolf-like but… different.

Black smoke dances over his fur, and his eyes glow like golden lanterns. It’s as if he’s an artist’s abstract rendition of a wolf formed of magic and shadows, with only the barest hints of his wolf showing through. The smoke that curls around

him, seeming to be formed of his skin and fur, resembles the tattoos he possesses in his human forms.

A split second after Kian shifts, Frost and Malix do too.

My heart lurches as I see them all three standing there like wolf demons sent straight from hell. The already too-small motel room feels even tinier with three massive, snarling monsters about to attack each other.

This is the other side of them, I realize. This is what makes them separate from normal wolf shifters.

And now I’m worried.

I’m not dying today because some asshole didn’t tell his asshole buddies that he screwed me.

I drop my water bottle on the table, hardly paying it any mind when it clatters off the edge and rolls across the floor. Then I slither off the worn, scratched tabletop and lunge between the three beasts.

Throwing up my arms to both sides, I shout, “Stop! Calm the hell down!”

All three shadow wolves freeze. Well, their bodies do—the smoky shadows clinging to their fur do not. It continues to swirl and ebb like oceans of witch magic flowing over their tall, nightmarish forms. Limbs too long, too crooked, bodies bony, teeth like knives… god, they’re hell monsters.

“We’re two days from the antidote,” I snap, my gaze darting between the three of them. Their eyes glow behind the smoke, and in this form, their irises are all the same color—an icy, vibrant blue. “Pull yourselves together, you idiots.”

The room goes completely silent for a moment, and it occurs to me that I might’ve just made things worse. I’ve put myself in the middle of a fight between three brutal supernatural beings whose power I don’t even quite understand.

But then some of the tension bleeds from the air, and I let out a slow breath.

Kian shifts back to human form first, a scowl painted across his face. “We aren’t idiots.”

I very carefully ignore his nakedness and motion around the room. “Are you not?”

He notes the beds—both of them shifted from their normal positions—the television on its side, the lamp broken, and random crap scattered across the floor.

Tags: Callie Rose Feral Shifters Paranormal
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