Page 84 of To Keep A Wolf
His eyes narrow. “Just hold on and fight it,” he grinds out. “You’ve done it before.”
But I shake my head, a smile curving my lips despite the blinding agony.
I reach for his collar, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric and drawing him down to me.
“What are you—?” His anger and confusion are all the invitation I need.
Yanking him close, I plant my mouth against his, pushing all the venom I’ve held in my mouth past his angry lips. Holding myself against him so that the poison seeps in before he can reject it. The fire fuels me. Or maybe it’s the magic.
I can feel the moment it hits him. The way his body stiffens. The locking of his muscles in protest.
He tries to wrench away. But I don’t let him.
With magic swirling and poison igniting, I kiss the wolf to death.
Jadick staggers backward the moment I release him. He falls, clawing at his mouth as his lips flush bright red then immediately begin to turn blue. He gasps as if his throat is clogged, and I fall back, watching with paralyzing relief as Jadick slowly suffocates.
The poison is a relentless spiraling, though, and before Jadick has stopped jerking against the invisible force stealing his life, black dots dance before my eyes. I blink them away, determined to see this.
Someone yells, the words unintelligible to me.
Beneath the archway, Rina begins speaking again, but her words are lost to my ears.
Then bodies are surging forward. A hand grips my shoulder, but I’m no longer aware of any sound I make against the pain.
A face swims into view.
Tripp.
“Mac,” he mouths.
Then he’s gone again.
Hands appear.
Another vial is tipped to my lips. Its contents empty themselves down my throat.
Rina, the witch, stands over me. Her gaze is calm though intent. Lines of concentration appear on her forehead as she waits for my death.
The fire inside me continues to consume.
My wolf howls, writhing as it slowly dies.
“..not working,” Rina says to someone else. She sounds sad, and I wonder if I should just stop fighting and let myself go.
“…blood,” a familiar voice snarls.
Levi.
He stands over me, back in his human form. His handsome face is streaked with blood, but the desperation he wears is clearly for me as he rakes his eyes over my face. His hands cup my cheeks, and he leans in and says, “Don’t give up on me.”
He crushes his lips to mine.
I fight him, terrified of the poison still clinging to my tongue. But Levi’s grip is like iron, and he climbs up on the stone altar, pressing himself against me until I’m consumed by him.
By us.
My wolf stirs, and Levi’s grip on my hip tightens. He kisses me harder, his tongue swirling against mine with no sign of succumbing to the poison.
