Page 108 of Fated to the Lone Shifter

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Bode snarls and leaps away, straight toward the Bensons.

No.

I race after him, lungs burning, limbs screaming. I can’t let him get to them. I can’t lose anyone else.

Not again.

But he’s faster, fueled by fury and desperation. He’s closing in on my parents—still unconscious, still helpless—when suddenly…

He stops.

I skid to a halt, nearly running into him, confused—until I see it.

He’s holding something.

An old, rusted pistol. Antique but deadly. Silver-tipped. He lifts it toward me with one shaking hand.

Bang.

The bullet sings past my ear, close enough to sear the air.

I dive behind a tree.

Bang.

Another shot. Too close.

Then a screech.

Not mine.

I look up.

A creature of molten flame is tearing through the clearing. Four-legged, feline. Eyes burning like twin suns.

A mountain lion.

A fire familiar.

Sera’s.

The beast pounces, slamming into Bode and engulfing him in flame. He howls, rolling, slapping at the blaze clawing up his side.

I stand mesmerized, just watching, as his body shrivels and shrinks.

At last, when the flames have subsided somewhat, I charge.

My jaws find his throat.

And this time—I don’t let go.

Bone snaps. Flesh tears.

When I finally pull back, his head rolls free, except for one strand of sinew.

It’s over.

It’s done.

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