Page 26 of Anders
Last chance,he offered.Tell me the truth, and we can handle this like civilized people.
Instead of answering, Etta glanced frantically around the room, clearly looking for a weapon or escape route.Her behavior confirmed his suspicions—she was stalling, strategizing.
Fine.He’d force her hand.
Anders closed his eyes briefly, letting his wolf surge forward.The familiar ripple of transformation washed over him, bones shifting and realigning, fur sprouting across his skin.The process was smooth, practiced—he’d been shifting since childhood, unlike whatever late-stage training program had clearly produced Etta.
In seconds, he stood before her in his wolf form, massive and imposing.His mixed gray and brown fur bristled slightly, his ears pricked forward, alert for any sound of threat or submission.
Any other wolf would have responded to such a display by either challenging or submitting.It was instinct, hardwired into their very being.
But Etta’s reaction was something else entirely.
Pure terror flooded her scent, sharp and acidic, burning his nostrils.Her eyes widened in naked horror.Her heartbeat, already elevated, skyrocketed to dangerous levels.The blood drained from her face.
This wasn’t the reaction of a trained operative maintaining cover.
This was primal, bone-deep fear.
Oh my god,she whispered, her voice barely audible.You’re… You’re…
Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall until she was sitting, her body trembling violently.Anders watched in growing confusion as she wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly.
Not real,she muttered.Not real, not real, not real…
For the first time since he’d entered the basement, uncertainty crept into Anders’s assessment.
The scenario he’d constructed—Etta as a skilled infiltrator—didn’t match the genuine terror she was displaying.No operative was this good at faking fear responses.Not the dilated pupils, not the cold sweat beading on her skin, not the way her breath came in short, panicked gasps.
Something was very, very wrong here.
Understanding dawned, horrifying in its implications.
She genuinely hadn’t known.
Anders shifted back quickly, ignoring the vulnerability of his naked state as he grabbed his pants and pulled them on.Etta made a small, choked sound at his transformation, pressing herself harder against the wall as if trying to disappear into it.
Etta,he said, keeping his voice gentle now.I won’t hurt you.
She shook her head wildly, her hair whipping around her face.Not possible,she gasped.People don’t… They can’t…
Somehow, despite being a shifter herself—and Anders was certain of that now, having caught her full scent during his shift—she truly hadn’t known what he was.What she was.
The surveillance equipment.The mark on her neck.Her compulsive documentation alongside her apparent ignorance.
Malcolm’s suggestion from the dinner rushed back to him:Chemical suppression, maybe?There are rumors about research facilities experimenting with ways to control shifters.
And Sarah’s addition:When Vincent was alpha.There was a wolf who came to check on the security systems.He had a similar mark.I only saw it once, when he bent down to fix some wiring.
Not a spy.A victim.
Shit.
Anders felt his wolf whine in distress, pushing at him to comfort their mate.But the damage had been done.He’d taken a vulnerable, traumatized shifter and confirmed her worst fears in the most terrifying way possible.
Etta,he tried again, crouching to appear less threatening.I’m sorry.I didn’t understand.
Her eyes, wild with fear, finally focused on him.
