Page 8 of The Demon's Due
Branches clawed at her arms, tore her dress, the night alive with the sound of battle behind her. She ran until the forest opened into a massive field and the Great Hall loomed beyond.
“I am not built for this kind of shit ”,she muttered but she didn't stop until the dormitory doors swallowed her. She slammed them shut, her chest heaving, her body trembling.
But there was this strange sensation pulling her, urging her to go back. The further she got from the beast, the heavier her chest had grown. An ache, a sorrow, sank claws into her bones as if she were leaving something vital behind in the woods.
Ignoring the pull he took the stairs in a breathless sprint and finally staggered to her bed, vision blurring.The sorrow was now a white-hot, blinding pain searing through her chest.
The last thing she felt before darkness swallowed her was that her heart had cracked clean in two.
And then-lights out.
Chapter 6
His mate was running. She was running awayfrom him.
Morgan’s wolf raged at the thought, every nerve lit with fire.Take her to the ground. Claim her. She is ours. The command pulsed inside his skull, primitive and unrelenting. He could feel her-her fear, her panic-like it were his own.
But another wolf stood in his way.
They collided in a storm of fur and claws, teeth snapping, blood flying hot into the night. The stranger’s scent was maddeningly familiar, but the wolf cared for only one thing. His mate was getting farther away, the distance between them stretching like an open wound.
Move. Tear. Kill.
He drove the other wolf down, jaws clamping around his throat. The taste of blood filled his mouth, victory within reach. His mate. He needed his mate.
Then-
“Morgan…stop!”
The voice cut through the red haze. The wolf snarled, pressing harder, only to hear it again, desperate. “Morgan, it’s me!”
The body beneath him morphed, bones snapping back into place. Fur gave way to skin. A man lay pinned, chest heaving, blood streaking his jaw.
Merrik.
His older brother.
Morgan blinked, the wolf fighting him for dominance, still howling for their mate. His claws flexed against Merrik’s skin.
“Morgan,” Merrik panted, holding his gaze. “You have your wolf.”
The beast inside him fought for control, not wanting to retreat, not wanting to lose this new freedom. He wanted to chase his mate down and drag her to his den. She would not leave until his mark was on her flesh. Then he would breed her until she was with pup. For long minutes,humar and wolf fought-two wills locked, his chest splitting with the strain. Then Síofra’s fear flashed through him again, a memory sharp as a knife to his side. She had looked at him like he was a monster.
We need her.
We need to explain. She is ours.
Slowly, the wolf subsided, curling deep into his bones but thrumming with impatience. Morgan sagged forward, body trembling.
Merrik groaned, wiping blood from his neck. “Bro, I love you and all, but can you get your dick off me?”
Morgan scrambled back, heat flooding his face. Naked, slick with blood, he forced himself upright.
Merrik sat up, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “Mom and Dad are gonna lose their minds. You finally got your wolf and he’s a beast. Not bad for the family dud.”
But Morgan barely heard. His chest burned with one name, one thought. “I need to find her.”
“Who?” Merrik frowned.
