*WINNER of Best Cliche Breaker for Undiscovered Werewolves*
"Underneath her skin was a wolf; all bite and snarl and nothing else."
The day Saoirse de Rais made her Alpha submit is the day she decided to run.
Traveling from city to city--state to sta...
Oops! Bu görüntü içerik kurallarımıza uymuyor. Yayımlamaya devam etmek için görüntüyü kaldırmayı ya da başka bir görüntü yüklemeyi deneyin.
His throat was sore, his voice hoarse—but he wouldn't stop calling for her. He wouldn't stop calling her name. She was being stupid; her plan was stupid.
His fingers had gone numb from the burns, but he didn't care. Enzo had left two scrawny men to keep watch—he swore he heard Enzo call them Thomas and Bill, but he didn't even care—while he took Saoirse out back. He could take them both; they just had to get close enough.
His heart was racing; every thought he had was swarming with scenarios, and plans, and unhelpful conclusions. None of the scenarios in his head were good—none of them ended with he and Saoirse alive and well and on their way back to Doherty. They always ended the same way. One of them would die. Someone was going to die, and he had to figure out a way to make sure that it wasn't them.
He began to kick at the door, watching as Thomas and Bill watched with a wary, and hardened gaze. They were smart. Right now, Bo was stupid and reckless. He refused to act like a rational human being.
Because, at the end of the day, he wasn't human. He didn't have time to act human. Because he was a fucking wolf, and he was going to act like it. Blood scorched beneath his skin, and he quickly ripped at the buttons of his shirt. Soon, Thomas and Bill were moving toward the bars, one with a gun in their hand telling Bo to stand down.
But Bo had pulling off his pants, and he felt the first bone crack—first one rib, and then another. He was down to his boxers, now, and the one he was going to assume was Thomas was reaching into his pockets for his keys.
"Listen up," Bo ordered. He buckled, pain ripping through him, he saw pinpricks of blood sprout along his skin, as the course fur began to push its way through his skin. "If I hear a gunshot, I'm ripping out your throats."
It was like a burst of heat as every inch of him contorted, limbs bending and thickening with sinuous muscle. He could barely hear the boys yelling at him to back up, their gun pointed at him. It was painfully obvious that this wasn't something they were used to. Which meant that they were utterly stupid.
Which meant that they were going to open the door.
Bo didn't really think when he was a wolf. There was feeling—there were urges, and that was the best thing for him. He was furious, and as his claws dug into the cold cement floor, he knew that the boys didn't stand a single chance against him. Before Bill could figure out which part of the gun was a trigger, Bo surged forward shoving the male into the silver bars.
Bill screamed as the silver seared into his skin, dropping the gun from his hands while Thomas reached for Bo's throat with his bare hands. But Bo was quicker, more agile than the other, and his sharp canines bit into Thomas' hand, causing him to stagger away as his hand began to gush. Bo wasn't done with Thomas, yet. He turned, his mouth lifting upwards to reveal a mouth full of red-stained teeth.
They really were stupid.
#
He left them in ribbons. He knew that in the end they were just doing what they were told, but he didn't care. Saoirse was somewhere, and he had to find her before Enzo made his escape pointless. He ran through the house, noting the emptiness of it, until he reached the backyard. He could smell her, now, as he pushed forward, ignoring every warning his body gave as it ached. He sifted through the tall grass, until he eventually saw Enzo standing in front of Saoirse.
