Claimed by the Pack

She kissed me, more with pity than with passion. I sighed as her mouth moved lower, over my chin, my neck, my chest.

I could feel the infection in my veins now. It ran through every inch of me, just beneath my skin.

“Broderick…”

It was white hot. Sizzling agony.

“Save yourself.”

I was dying of thirst. Her lips were cool, clear water…

I gulped hard. Finally I nodded.

“Is that a yes?”

I nodded again, this time more vigorously. In my weakened state, I noticed my chin barely moved.

“You have to say it, Broderick. I need the words.”

My throat was bone dry. My tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.

I opened my cracked lips and spoke anyway.

“Do it,” I murmured. “Help me.”

Her mouth moved to my lips again. Her eyes bore into mine.

“Tell me to—”

“Make me,” I gasped.

Her eyes flared, two green jewels sparkling in the hospital’s dim light. It was what she wanted. Precisely what she’d been waiting for.

“Make me.”

The angel’s smile of pity turned to one of enthusiasm, even rapture. She bent her head, lowered her lips…

As her teeth broke through I barely felt anything at all.

I blinked away the memory, shoving it back to that dark place I seldom visited in my mind. I needed to focus. Focus on masking myself from Karessa. Focus on staying close enough to Serena, while still putting out feelers for Damien, who I could sense even now was moving in my direction.

There wasn’t a lot of time. Damien was bringing two pursuers with him. I could smell them now, their scent riding the air. Christophe. Lionel. Running full tilt, in my direction.

I inhaled deeply, filling my great human lungs with air.

Make me.

Karessa had taken my life, and yet she’d given it too. Damien’s choice had been no less made for him, and he’d adjusted famously. I’d always hated him for that — hated him for the ease at which he was able to accept, adapt, even thrive.

I’d hated him and I never understood why. But now I did.

Make me…

It had taken me all these years to come to terms with who I was. All those long years of turmoil, just so I could—

I could hear them now, rushing this way. The sound got my blood pumping. I tilted my chin upward, allowing it to be a catalyst for the metamorphosis. I felt the familiar, rising heat of the shift.

My eyes rolled into my head. My lips curled backward, stretching over my teeth…