Page 68 of Shadow

Marinah

The day had been far too perfect, and I should have known it wouldn’t end well. I was trapped in a cave with an injured Shadow Warrior while someone out there was actively trying to kill him. The injured party in question seemed to think the best way to recover was by practically having me in his lap. I had lost track of how long we had been sitting like this, his body radiating heat, his presence an overwhelming mix of protection and danger.

The cave was cool, so his body heat wasn’t leaving me a sweaty mess. Strangely, I momentarily felt safe, even knowing we could be found at any moment.

The sun sank lower, its fading light casting shadows across the cave walls. My anxiety ramped upward with the waning daylight. King’s steady breathing deepened, softening into a faint snore. It was only then, with him finally asleep, that I allowed myself to take a good, long look at a Shadow Warrior in beast form.

He was breathtaking.

If I had to compare him to anything, it would have been a pre-apocalypse made-for-television wolfman. But no werewolf could match the sheer power and ferocity of this creature. Hisbody was covered in short, dense hair that glinted faintly in the dim light, replacing the smooth skin I had grown accustomed to seeing. His legs were massive, built for power, while his arms had grown longer, the muscles rippling beneath the fur. Wickedly sharp claws tipped his fingers, glinting faintly as they twitched in his sleep.

But it was his face that had changed the most.

Where his skull had once been rounded, it was now elongated, the structure wider and stronger. His jaw was a masterpiece of lethal design, with enormous teeth overlapping in a way that made it seem impossible for him to fully close his mouth. And yet, he looked peaceful.

I didn’t understand why I wasn’t afraid of him. Every instinct should have been screaming at me to keep my distance, but I felt none of that. His beast didn’t frighten me any more than King himself did. Maybe because this form was such a large part of the man.

Curiosity won over caution, and I lifted a hand, brushing my fingers along his upper lip. The fur there was soft but bristly, poking against my skin as I traced the line to where his jaws connected. His sheer size was mesmerizing.

Unable to resist, I shifted to my knees, leaning closer to his throat. His scent was stronger here, earthy, wild, and uniquely him. It wasn’t unpleasant, though it was unlike anything I had ever known.

A shudder rippled through his body, the sudden movement startling me. The cave grew warmer almost instantly, a more intense wave of heat radiating from him. I had noticed this before, how the air around him seemed to change when he was agitated or unwell.

His warmth seeped further into me, chasing away the chill of the evening. I hoped it meant his body was fightingback and he was healing. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay here forever.

I glanced toward the cave’s entrance, the fading light making it harder to see beyond the narrow opening. Worry knotted in my chest. What if his team didn’t find us? What if the people hunting him came back?

His arms tightened slightly, calming me despite my growing fear. I stroked his fur lightly, my fingers lingering on the soft bristles, and whispered, “Please heal. We need to get out of here.”

King’s beast eyes fluttered open, their vivid blue practically glowing in the dim light. His monstrous head turned, and his snout brushed through my hair, inhaling deeply near my neck. The sensation was oddly ticklish, sending a shiver down my spine.

“How are you doing?” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the darkened cave.

“Grrr.”

“I’ll take that as ‘okay,’” I replied, holding his gaze. His eyes were calculating, but he wasn’t attacking me. So far, so good.

“They must be up in the rocks,” a voice carried from below. The distinctly American accent made my heart lift for a moment, relief flooding me at the thought that King’s men had found us.

Beast reacted differently.

He rose quickly, pulling me back against the cave wall with surprising gentleness. He positioned himself to the side of the entrance, his massive frame ready to strike.

It wasn’t his men.

“There’s the bike,” another voice said. “We need to eliminate them both. I think he took a bullet. If he’s injured, he’ll be easier to kill.”

“They’re talking about killing us,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. “Who are they?”

King’s beast didn’t respond, his focus locked on the danger.

I scanned the cave, my eyes landing on the knife King had used earlier to cut away his shirt. It was still sitting on the saddlebag, a lifeline within arm’s reach. Slowly, carefully, I inched along the wall toward it, my movements slight to avoid drawing attention.

Beast’s glowing eyes tracked me, but he didn’t stop me as my fingers closed around the knife’s hilt. The metal felt solid and reassuring in my grasp.

With the knife secured, I continued edging toward the entrance, determined to be ready for whatever came next.

A sudden rumble echoed from above the cave. King’s monstrous head tilted upward, his nostrils flaring. He raised one long-clawed hand in front of his jaws, a clear signal for me to stay silent.

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