Page 76 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
But he barely flinches.
Bode lets out a guttural growl, then slams Noah into the stone hearth with brutal force.
Crack.
“No!”
Blood gushes from his temple. His knees buckle.
His eyes find mine—sharp, knowing, impossibly soft for what’s happening.
“I love you,” he mouths.
Then the light drains from them.
“No!”
My scream rips through the cabin, shattering the warded windows in a storm of glass and wind.
And the fire inside me—wild, ancient, unholy—breaks free.
It seems like forever has passed when I finally open my eyes. Yet it’s only been two hours. Apparently, werewolves like Bode never sleep. This witch does…and dreams…nightmares.
I am grateful to see that I am still sitting by the hearth. I stare into the fire, pretending it soothes me. It doesn’t. It only reminds me what I am. What I could do if these damn chains were off.
Bode lounges across from me, sipping a dark beer with the smug satisfaction of someone who believes he’s already won.
“Bad dreams?” he taunts.
“Terrible,” I sigh, praying I haven’t revealed anything in my sleep. “You and Noah were fighting over me.”
He grins like the cheshire cat’s evil twin. “Quite prophetic. And? How did it end?”
“He killed you,” I lied, feigning devastation.
“Ah, that’s what the scream was about.”
I nod, hanging my head. I hope it’s not too much, but he’s tough to read.
“There, there.” He comes over to comfort me. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Noah Benson is no match for this Alpha.” Ican’t tell whether he is playing with his food or whether he’s really that naive. Nothing I can do either way. I play along. Because the truth is…he’s not wrong. As a lone wolf, Noah would be no match for Bode and his pack.
Bode stands and opens another Dark Horse stout.
“You’ll see,” he says. “The old ways—those are the only ones that work. Power isn’t meant to be hidden. It’s meant to be wielded.”
I nod slowly, head tilted just enough to keep his ego fed. “You’ve clearly been planning this for a long time.”
He smiles. “Decades. The Lunaris bloodline deserves more than scraps. You’ll help me take what we’re owed.”
My stomach knots, but I match his smile. “And after that?”
He stands and walks to the window, silhouetted in the moonlight. “Then the curse is gone—freed from blood and bone—and we reshape the world anew.”
I fake a laugh. Light, soft, rehearsed.
"I like the sound of that."
He turns his back.
