Page 67 of His Claim
Now I knew the truth. It was a fight. Every mile was a test. The mountains weren’t here to welcome me. They were here to break me.
I wasn’t going to break. Fuck you, mountain.
I set my jaw, folded the map carefully, and pressed forward into the trees.
The map said I was close to one of the old mountain passes. Close was relative, though. My calves burned from the climb, every breath scraped my throat raw and sweat plastered my shirt to my back despite the cool chill of the air.
I stopped on a narrow ledge, leaning a hand against the rock face. The drop yawned beside me, dizzying, jagged boulders waiting below. I sucked in the cold air and forced myself to keep going.
That’s when I heard a sound. It carried on the wind. It was low, guttural, and far too close to mistake for anything else.
A growl.
My blood iced.
I froze, knife already in my hand, my wolf prowling just under my skin. I turned slowly, eyes scanning the tree line above the ledge. The pines swayed, branches creaking, and then something moved between them.
A wolf shifter.
This one was ragged, feral, his eyes glowing faintly red, his mouth pulled into a snarl that showed too many teeth. His clothes hung shredded from his body, his hands tipped with claws that glistened in the half-light.
My stomach twisted. He wasn’t fully gone—there was still a man somewhere under that beast—but he was close. Too close.
He shifted and dropped to all fours with an animal shriek, the sound bouncing through the valley, and launched himself down the slope toward me.
I spun, sprinting along the ledge, rocks skittering out from under my feet. My lungs burned, and my heart pounded as every step threatened to send me careening down the steep mountainside.
The growl grew louder, closer.
I risked a glance back. He was fast, claws digging into the stone as he ran, eyes locked on me with a hunger that turned my blood cold.
Shift, my wolf screamed inside me.Shift now!
But panic clawed tighter. My body hesitated, human fear drowning out instinct, and the path narrowed ahead.
I had no choice.
The rogue lunged, his claws slashing against the stone where I’d been a heartbeat before. I stumbled, falling to my knees, the knife clattering from my hand. He loomed over me, mouth open, teeth bared for my throat.
My scream caught in my chest.
And then fire ripped through me.
The change surged fast and violent, fur tearing through skin, bones cracking as they reshaped, clothes ripping as my body transformed. My vision blurred, then sharpened, every detail burning into focus, the flecks of blood on his claws, the sour reek of his breath, the tremor of the earth beneath his weight.
I snarled, a sound that split the air, and lunged.
Wolf met wolf.
My jaws snapped around his shoulder, tearing deep. Hot blood filled my mouth, copper thick on my tongue. He howled, thrashing, his claws ripping furrows down my side. Pain burned, but my wolf reveled in it.
We tumbled across the ledge, claws and teeth flashing, the world spinning around us. Rocks crumbled under our weight, clattering down into the abyss.
I dug my claws into the ground, anchoring myself, and slammed him against the cliff face with my shoulder. He snarled, snapping at my muzzle, but I shoved harder, sinking my teeth deep into the side of his neck, deeper still, until his blood spattered the rock.
He twisted, his claws raking my flank again, hot pain lancing through me. I yelped, my grip loosening, and he wrenched free, hurling himself at me with a feral scream.
The impact knocked us both sideways. My paws scrabbled against the edge, stones tumbling over and clattering down the side. The drop yawned under me, sickening and endless.
