Page 97 of Marked By Moonlight

They were halfway down the steps, Gideon’s gaze glued to Claire, when two hands shot from between the steps to grab hold of Gideon’s and Darius’s ankles. A hard yank pitched them forward, sending them tumbling down the unforgiving steps and onto the concrete floor in a tangle of limbs.

Two lycans flew from beneath the stairs. Crouched on his hands and knees, Gideon struggled to rise, battling his dizziness. Hard steel struck him in the back once, twice, forcing him to the floor with a jarring thud. Pain thrummed through every inch of his body. Groaning, he struggled to rise again.

Claire screamed, the sound piercing his soul.

He twisted around in time to see the pipe descending to his head. Rolling to the side, the pipe grazed his shoulder. His handbrushed cold metal. His gun. Grabbing it, he swung around and fired at the lycan swinging the pipe. Once. Twice. The lycan’s body hit the ground.

Crouching, Gideon ignored his dizziness and spun around, searching through the murky air for the second lycan. He spotted him springing through the air toward him. Gideon fired again, jerking out of the way as the lycan collapsed to the ground beside him.

His gaze sought Darius then, finding him restrained with a pipe through his chest, impaled to one of the basement’s support beams.

“One move and I snap her neck,” Cyril called out, recapturing his attention.

Gideon swung his gun in the direction of Cyril.

The alpha held Nina before him, two hands wrapped around her neck. “Toss the gun down.”

Gideon’s gaze moved beyond Cyril to where Claire hunkered, clutching at her chest, breathing abnormally fast.

“Claire?” he called, dread consuming him.No. Not yet.

Her frightened gaze met his, mirroring the dread welling up inside him.

Cyril glanced over his shoulder at her and an evil smile curved his lips. “You’re too late. It’s already begun. She’s mine now.”

Claire struggled to steady her breathing as her gaze shot back and forth between Gideon, Darius, and Cyril. She straightened, trying to still the wild thumping of her heart with deep, calming breaths. It did no good. Her heart felt ready to explode from her chest.

The gun in Gideon’s hand wavered and she knew he was going to do what Cyril said and toss down the gun.

“No,” she cried out, trying to step around Cyril, but he moved and blocked her.

Claire watched Gideon lower the gun and acted fast. Her foot lashed out at the back of Cyril’s knees. He stumbled and she grabbed Nina’s wrist, yanking her free from Cyril’s hold. She flung Nina with more force than intended, forgetting her strength. Nina hit the wall with a cry, her injured arm taking the brunt of the impact. Cringing, Claire watched as Nina crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Damn. Claire started toward Nina but whirled around at a shout.

One of the fallen lycans clutched Gideon’s ankle. She watched, horrified, as the lycan sank his teeth into Gideon’s calf, penetrating the denim and reaching skin. She heard Gideon’s flesh tear, heard the lycan’s teeth sink into muscle and sinew.

Claire screamed, surging forward with her hand outstretched. Her fingers strained to reach Gideon even as she realized it was too late.

Cyril recovered quickly, striking her across the face. She toppled back from the sudden blow, clutching her cheek.

A shot rang out.

Pushing herself up with one palm, she watched Gideon shoot the lycan clinging to his leg. Shaking the creature off, he lifted his gun. But it was too late. Cyril was on him. Knocking the gun from Gideon’s hand, he grabbed him by the throat, lifting him several inches off the floor.

Cyril studied Gideon’s reddening face for several seconds before saying, “I’m not going to kill you right away. Killing is too good for you, too easy. I’ll keep you alive. Make you a slave to the pack, feed you the scraps.”

Cyril’s voice sounded strange. Thick, almost strangled. A glance at his face revealed why. He was beginning to shift. His face altered, the bones elongating and stretching as the skin darkenedto a deep gray. Fur sprouted over his entire head in a thick reddish brown mane.

Claire raised a trembling hand to her own face and felt that she had started to shift, as well.

“Oh God,” she whimpered, her voice strange and unnatural.

A gnawing hunger flared to life in the pit of her belly. Her heart still hammered at a frantic tempo, the air rushing out of her mouth in spurts. Dipping her head, she moaned low in her throat. A scratchy, tingling sensation overwhelmed her body. Powerless to resist, she threw back her head and arched her spine, moaning louder.

Clutching her cheeks, she felt her bones shift, stretch, grow. Fur sprouted from her pores and filled her palms where she clutched the sides of her face.

The hunger grew, eclipsing all else. Claire struggled to hold on to herself, to what she knew, but it grew increasingly harder as her body twisted inside itself.

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