Page 36 of Toward Immortal Ruin

“What is Coffee Shop Cutie working on today?”

Nero grimaced before he responded. “A bit of unfortunate research.”

“Well, doesn’t that sound ominous.”

Eden hopped to her feet, trotting over to look over his shoulder. When he pulled up the blurry photograph that accompanied the article, she sobered. “Was that the one that attacked us?”

“It looks like it.”

She hummed. “I’m glad you took care of it. I wouldn’t want it hurting anyone else. That bite was killer.”

Dread filled him, thick and potent, a suffocating hand collapsing around his throat. While Eden continued to scan the article over his shoulder. Attempting to speak through the sudden fear that’d consumed him was nearly impossible.

“What—what did you say, Eden?”

She didn’t seem to understand the magnitude of what she’d just revealed. “It wasn’t too bad, I guess. Just barely a nip, but it was vice-like. Fortunately, my coat saved me from the worst of it.”

“Did it break the skin?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t very deep.” Her glass-green eyes continued to read, the flippancy of her voice at odds with the severity of his. “I got my updated rabies shot, though, just to be safe. The bite was under those Band-Aids I was wearing last night.”

Without warning, his hands delicately enfolded her extended arm. Three small spots dotted the ivory skin, and the instant Nero gingerly ran his thumb across them, the werewolf trace seeped into his senses. He stared, transfixed, at the marks that’d forever change her life.

Nerohadfailed to protect his mate. She’d been hurt, and he hadn’t been there to stop it. He had been too late, and any choice she would’ve had had been stolen from her.

Deep below his consciousness, his panther roared to the surface, yanking at chains he’d tangled over the beast to keep him from taking over. Distressed, the beast snarled, fixated on seeking his mate’s safety. With an audible psychic snap, the restraints broke, and he trembled with the force of withholding the change.

“Hey, it’s okay, Nero,” came Eden’s calming voice. “I’m alright. You made sure of that.”

Only capable of nodding, he gently set down his laptop and closed his eyes. With every ounce of will in his body, he withheld the change. In a terse telepathic communication, he barked a command at Luna.

Come to my home. See to Eden. I have to shift.

Luna would know Nero’s control was wavering. She sent him a psychic equivalent of a nod, and he took the moment to rise to his feet.

“Forgot to check something outside,” he lied. His eyes remained closed, shielding Eden from the vibrant green of hispanther, and his voice was so coarse with his animal it was nearly unintelligible. “Be back soon.”

The tips of his fingers tingled with the oncoming change as he slid open the glass door. Taking off at a sprint, his legs pumped until he was certain he was no longer in view of the house.

Then he let his panther take control.

Leaping into the excruciating euphoria of the shift, Nero’s bone and muscle reformed within seconds. Fingers sharpened to claws. Blunted human teeth became two-inch-long daggers. His center of balance forced him to all fours, and then his paws were tearing into the manicured lawns.

His terrifying roar shook the very earth around him, and a collective silence immediately followed. Even the Raeths who’d been outside had stilled, their eyes fixed on the black blur shooting along behind the row of oceanside homes. No one wanted to mess with his predator, and rightly so.

Debilitating fear translated into anger, his panther’s hiss betraying the twisted web of complex emotions that ran red hot within him.

Had Key known of the bite?

Something told him that she didn’t, but it wouldn’t be the first time Key had withheld her visions for the sake of some grander plan. Only months ago, he’d seen one of his lieutenants nearly killed on account of her cryptic manipulations.

The panther let loose another unholy roar, his mind faced with the bitter conclusion.

Eden had been bitten by a rabid werewolf. That meant she was going to turn.

***

Claws gashed gapping wounds along the palm trees that dared to be in his way. Nero’s inner rage had boiled over in the form of physical exertion.

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