Page 41 of Cultivating Caden
“Long enough to get drunk apparently. We will be discussing the penalties for lying when we get home.”
Kieran’s gaze cut over to Caden. “Thanks a lot.”
“Don’t blame Caden for your lies. I thought I could trust you when I was out of town, but apparently that was a mistake too. I’m very disappointed in you—I hope you realize that.”
As if Matt had flipped a switch, Kieran’s entire demeanor changed. Where before he was slightly belligerent, now he was practically mewling. “I’m sorry, Sir. I shouldn’t have lied.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You know what happens when you lie. Remind me.”
“I have to sleep on the floor. But—”
“No buts. You brought this on your own and—”
Whatever Matt was about to say was cut off as something rammed into the side of the car, slamming it against a tree, crumpling the roof. Kieran screamed, his voice loud and shrill. When the car came to rest on the passenger side, Quade was scrabbling to get out. His hands were claws, his face had elongated into a wolf’s snout, and there was murder in his eyes. He punched the door, knocking it off its hinges as it went flying, then leaped up and out of the car and landed a few feet away from it.
Matt and Kieran both stared.
“It’s not what you think,” Caden said, knowing it was futile. Quade was in his lycan form, stalking around on two legs, growling and sniffing the air. His gaze shifted to Caden from time to time, as though he needed to keep him in sight.
Kieran gasped. “Your boyfriend is a fucking werewolf.”
“He prefers lycan.”
“That’s awesome.”
It had to be the shock—that was the only explanation.
“Why are you not more freaked out about this?”
“Seriously? I read shifter romance novels. Werewolves are hotter than fuck.”
“We need to get out of the car.”
Matt pushed his door open, then pulled Kieran up and out the opening. Caden climbed out where Quade had gotten the door off. When he turned, he saw it. He had no idea what the hell it was, but it was bearing down on Quade.
“Quade!”
Leaping forward with a roar, Quade met the thing head-on. It brushed him aside as though he was nothing and stalked toward Caden.
He turned to Matt. “Get Kieran out of here.”
“No way, we’re not leaving without you.”
Quade struggled to his feet. “Go, Caden, run!” His voice was dry like a husk. He seemed a bit unsteady, but was already moving toward whatever it was. “Get out of here. Go!” Quade cried out.
Caden turned to face the thing. He had never seen anything like it. At least ten feet tall, with shaggy black hair, it reminded Caden of the pictures he’d seen of Bigfoot. It was almost on him, and he tried to do something—anything—to keep it away. As it raised a hand, Quade charged in from the side, slamming into it with a grunt. The creature barely flinched. The thing turned toward Quade as he rose to his feet.
“There’s other ways to stop you,” Quade snarled.
He rushed the beast, his claws extended, and jammed them into the thing’s chest. It howled and stumbled back, clutching where Quade had nailed it. It sneered at Quade and swung wildly. It was obviously powerful, but Quade was fast and continued to dance around it, swiping his claws across its back, face, chest. Anywhere he found an opening, Quade exploited it. The beast was getting angrier as blood matted its fur. When Quade held up one of his claws and licked the blood from it, the beast charged him once more. This time Quade raced forward, driving his claws deep into the beast’s chest, the sound of cracking ribs loud in the now-silent field. The thing’s eyes went wide, and then it crumbled to the ground, dead.
“Is that the best you can do?” Quade shouted to the sky. “A Bogran couldn’t defeat the youngest of my kind.”
“Nor was it meant to. I admit, you are a surprise. We only came for one thing.”
The voice whispered through the trees, sending chills up Caden’s spine like someone walking over his grave. A pressure built in his head, causing him to groan.
“What do you want?”
