Page 116 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
I don’t have to go head to head with Mathew to know that he is stronger than I am right now. I need something, some sort of weapon. While my eyes search for one, I have to keep him talking, which he seems very keen to do.
To my right is a table with several filled syringes. I don’t know what their purposes are, but injected all at once, I doubt they will have a positive impact on Mathew.
He has turned his back to me, as if I’m not a worthy opponent, and is walking toward Fiona now. Silently, I grab the syringes.
“Your genetic code and mine will give birth to a new race of shifters. You may not be alive to see it, but it will be a new era, one where our new species will reign dominant and the shifter-born will be our slaves. Humans carrying the recessive gene will be the superior beings, at the top of the food—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I thrust the syringes into his back, pressing down on the plungers. Mathew turns around, fast as a whip, his hand darting forward.
I feel a strange pressure in my abdomen, and for a moment, I don’t understand what is happening. Then, I hear Fiona scream—a terrible sound, a guttural, broken shriek that reaches out and pierces through the haze that is surrounding my wolf.
And then Mathew moves again, his lips twisted in a terrible smile. From my abdomen, he draws out his hand, soaked in my blood.
Chapter 19
Fiona
The sight of Erik collapsing cuts through everything—through the chemicals coursing through my veins, through the betrayal burning in my chest, through the careful cage I’ve built around my wolf for over a year. Mathew’s clawed hand withdraws from Erik’s abdomen, slick with blood, and Erik doesn’t make a sound. He just staggers backward, his face going pale while crimson spreads across his shirt.
His silence—his refusal to give Mathew the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain—is somehow worse than any scream could be.
Erik’s eyes find mine across the room, and I see something in them I’ve never seen before—not defeat, but a terrible kind of acceptance. He’s calculating how much time he has left, how much fight remains in him. Even dying, he’s still thinking tactically.
“No,” I whisper. Then louder, “NO!”
The restraints bite into my wrists as I thrash against them, but they’re reinforced steel, designed to hold struggling shifters.Mathew turns toward me, his monstrous hybrid form moving with predatory grace, leaving Erik bleeding on the floor.
“Don’t worry,” the creature says, his voice a disturbing blend of human intelligence and animal hunger. “You’ll join him soon enough. But first, we have work to do.”
Erik tries to push himself up, one hand pressed to his wound, the other reaching for something—anything—he can use as a weapon. But his strength is failing, the poison and blood loss taking their toll.
That’s when the darkness takes me.
Not unconsciousness—something deeper. I feel myself sinking into a black void within my own mind, away from the sterile laboratory, away from Mathew’s leering face, away from Erik’s weakening heartbeat that I can somehow feel through our bond.
The darkness is absolute at first, but gradually, I become aware that I am not alone.
She’s there, waiting for me.
My wolf.
She’s magnificent—larger than I remember from the few times I’ve shifted, with fur the color of winter wheat that seems to glow with its own inner light. But her eyes...Her eyes are filled with such a profound sadness that it takes my breath away.
We stare at each other across the void, predator and prey, two halves of a whole that have been at war for over a year.
For a moment, I don’t move—and then, she does. One step after another till the distance between us has lessened. She looks sad, fragile in a way that reminds me of who I used to be.
I press my lips together, my heart aching. “I was betrayed.” My voice is whisper-thin, my eyes burning. “I thought that I was in control, that I was safe, and all this time I was still an experiment.”
She tilts her head before approaching me and nuzzling me. My tears start to flow.
“I thought I had built a life for myself, that I had found a purpose, but this last year was for naught. I should have just gone back with Erik. If I had done that, none of this would be happening.”
She licks my forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and my voice echoes strangely in this internal space. “I’m so sorry.”
She watches me, listening.
