Rejected Mate (Feral Shifters 1)
Page 67
What if there’s another way?
Killers don’t just stop killing because someone tells them to. Killers will shed blood for the slightest reason and not give a shit who gets hurt in the process. But all three of these men refrained from killing those humans. Even though the townspeople came to Erik’s house specifically to take us down.
So… maybe I could help the feral shifters see another path. Help them break away from the mission they’ve been sent out on by their alpha.
What if I could convince them not to do it? I could show them how fucked up it would be to destroy the world just because their alpha commanded them to. Just to ease their own pain.
Because that’s the kicker, isn’t it? According to Frost, they want to break down those barriers and bring the shadow realm to earth so they won’t hurt anymore. Except, in doing so, they’ll destroy humanity.
Three lives for seven billion?
That math just doesn’t make sense.
But still… I don’t think they’re pure evil. Not like I did before.
I glance at Kian. He’s leading us, looking like a hulking mass of muscles on his little Honda bike. It reminds me of his Harley that I so carefully cut to pieces, and how sexy he looked on the seat of that old girl.
I want him to be a good man.
I want them all to be.
But wanting something doesn’t make it true.
I lean back, turning my face to the sky. I can imagine the heat of daylight just beyond the horizon. The earth is turning ever so slowly, taking us into a new day, and the warmth is just out of sight, just out of reach.
Maybe I can fix this after all.
Just as the thought begins to solidify in my mind, a wave of stark pain lances through me.
I gasp and tighten my fingers on the handlebars, fighting against the sudden agony. It washes over me all at once, a thousand tiny knives digging into my body. Keeping my focus on the road ahead, I let off the gas, but before I can hit the brakes, everything in me goes tense. I lose my grip on the handlebars and double over, completely losing touch with my body.
My vision flashes in and out. I struggle to get my hands back on the bars, but I can’t even feel my fingers through the white hot pain burning me from the inside out. The world dips and twists around me. Colors blur, wind blows, everything somersaults around me. For a brilliant moment, I’m weightless.
Then I crash into the pavement at fifty miles an hour.
If the poison pain felt horrible, this pain is unbearable. I skid across the warm asphalt, then roll and roll, my arms useless, flailing. Something snaps in my arm, and another something cracks in my torso. Then everything goes perfectly, absolutely still.
I hover on the edge of unconsciousness. There’s nothing but darkness around me, and the distinct feeling that I’ve detached from my body completely. Tires screech nearby, though I think the sound should be louder. It’s like it’s coming from the end of a long tunnel that I can’t access. Then, the muffled sound of pounding footsteps and raised voices.
“She’s got a pulse,” someone says faintly. It almost sounds like Kian, but there’s no way he’d ever have that much concern i
n his voice over me.
“Broken rib,” Frost says. “Her arm’s injured as well. Possibly a concussion.”
Malix snarls. “Yes, thank you, captain obvious. I’m a little more concerned about the total body road rash.”
Now I know I’m not imagining the worry in his tone.
I claw my way back to consciousness, even though doing so tugs away the muted, muffled distortion of my senses. All the agony rolls right back over me, and sound returns much louder than it should be.
I blink up at the circle of three faces hovering above me.
“My bike?” I croak.
Kian sits back on his heels with a snarl. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Seriously?”
“Is she okay?” I rasp, trying to sit up for a look. My possibly broken rib protests with a dagger-like sharpness against my insides, and I squeak in shock, falling back against the pavement.