Page 182 of Claimed

Jase moves to the RV. I glance back and see the jug of water sitting on the dolly outside the door. The door is open and I see a pair of boots, toes pointing to the sky. Meadows is flat out.

As I move through the building’s open doorway I hear the sound of a relieved Sherry, exclaiming, “Jason! Ohmigod, Jason!”

My focus is on where I’m moving and what I’m smelling. But there’s strange sensations in my fingertips. I lift my hands and they’re orange, like there’s light under my skin. The light pulses and what feels like a spark bites at my thumbnail bed, so I shake my hand in reflex from the sting as I move forward, feeling like something is being pulled from my skin. Extracted from my very blood.

Now, in the dim space it’s plain to see all my fingers are lit. So are the veins in my forearms. What the fuck?

I hear my blood pumping through my veins loudly with a strong sense of dread as the horizon tilts ninety degrees.

I scramble to grip for something to steady myself and more sting bites under my fingernails. Red sparks fly from my shoulders. This isn’t me throwing sparks with my magic. This is something else. What the fuck is happening? I’m holding a support pillar halfway between the open rolling door and a set of double doors that leads to where Stacy is. I hear Sherry sounding distant and distorted, telling Jase that Wyatt opened the door and a woman blew some sparkles in his face, making him collapse. Her voiceis fading, but she just said something about Stacy being in here, that something bad is happening to her.

I dig deep to push past the vertigo and force myself forward. I know I’m staggering, I’m nauseous. My vision distorts as echoes of multiple heartbeats fill my ears and sink into my own chest. I keep moving through the warehouse, staggering toward the scents.

The knowledge that I should’ve done the salt circle and taken the ampule resonates in every cell of my body.

I fucked up.

But it’s too late, I’m not turning back, not when Stacy is in there. Withher.

I feel her. I feelthem.

Four scents assault me hardest as I stumble into a room with people in it.

She’s here. She’s breathing. More sparks are pulled from my skin, from my chest now and fuck, it hurts, feels like they’re being yanked out of me, they’re like splinters with roots attached to them.

I ignore the sting and zone in on the two forms on the couch, one of them, my woman, the other… the woman who birthed me. The sparks that are leaving me are flying toward her, sinking into her skin, but she’s welcoming them, they don’t seem like they’re burning her.

Soleil weeps, clasping her throat with both hands, having what looks like some sort of mental breakdown as the sparks keep landing on her skin.

“I loved them both so m-much,” she croaks. “So, so much. I never wanted to do what I did. I never wanted to lose them.Never, never, never. But I… I… I just couldn’t help it. Obviously, I still can’t. I…” She sobs loudly, looking manic.

“Couldn’t help what?” Stacy asks, then turns her head and spots me as I wobble, trying to clear my double vision.

Three other women zoom into my focus. They’re staring at me, standing against a wall. I struggle to take in my mate with my eyes and my nose to assess her wellbeing.

Strength suffuses my veins, heat pulsing in my face and I straighten as my birth mother gasps. “It’s you! I suspected it wouldn’t take too long. You’d be gallant, like your father.”

“Get…the fuck… away from my mate,” I demand, summoning strength, feeling way the fuckoff. I need to feel a hundred per cent, so I rip the t-shirt off my back, grab the fly of my jeans and undo it, shifting as I drop them.

The women in the room all gasp at the sight of my wolf.

I feel unsteady as wolf, too, though don’t feel it as much as I did in human form.

I shift back, then shift to wolf again before shifting back again while sparks have continued to fly from both my fur and my skin.

The energy in the room is beyond amped and the other women other than the young one who waved us in are scattering out of the room, leaving the curly-haired witch, me, Stacy, and Soleil. The curly-haired one waits, arms crossed as she watches us.

I pull my jeans back up and do them up, vision back to normal as I get my feet into my shoes deciding I’ll pull magic from every member of my coven, as much magic as it takes to ensure my mate is safe from this woman.

I take one step forward, feeling the pulsing heat not only behind my eyes, under the skin of my entire face.

“Greyson,” Soleil says, still sobbing. She rushes toward me and collides with me, grabbing my face with both hands.

Jaw clenched, I stare into eyes like Mimi’s. Like some of my cousins, and mine too, I guess.

I’m about to demand answers while simultaneously shoving her the fuck away when I’m assaulted by images, memories, emotions because of the fact she’s touching me.

Flash cards and movie snippets move fast, too fast, fusing with my mind and it feels different from the last time I pulled Ronnie’s gifts. Maybe because it’s so personal. Maybe because I’m pulling so hard.

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