Page 40 of Howling
I can fight off three, maybe even five shifters, but a whole pack?
I’m good, but no one is that good.
Not to mention the responsibility of holding someone’s mind is too much pressure. I don’t have enough practice to be confident of the outcome. The first time I commanded anyone, the results were devastating. They became a virtual minion, just waiting for my orders. It freaked me out so much that I’ve avoided using my abilities unless absolutely necessary.
I caught the asshole assaulting a girl. I was too far away to physically stop him, so I tossed out a command to halt. The euphoria of using my abilities for the first time was addictive, my veins singing with magic, the power begging me to use it.
The girl ripped herself out of his hold the instant I interfered, running away without once looking back, leaving me to deal withher attacker. The beast in me immediately wanted to kill him for assaulting a female, someone so much weaker than him. His confidence, the sheer audacity that he felt—like it was his right to take what he wanted—burned away the pleasure of using my gift.
I stood before him, debating what to do.
Though some awareness lingered in his eyes, he remained completely at my mercy, his wolf eager for my command. I could’ve ordered him to forget the whole evening. I could’ve ordered him to turn himself in to the authorities, but I doubted he would even get a slap on the wrist without witnesses or a victim to file a report.
Neither of those options would’ve brought justice.
So I ordered him to shift, binding him in his wolf form for a month. It was like tapping into his basic programming, rewiring his hindbrain. What I hadn’t expected was for the wolf to become obsessed, stalking my every move and demanding my attention.
I’d thought it was harmless…until I realized he was killing anyone who even looked at me sideways.
Something about locking away the human part of him had altered his mind. Without the balance between his humanity and his wolf, his brain unraveled. Don’t get me wrong—he’d always been a killer, a monster down to his soul. But, by taking away the human part of him, that evil bled into his wolf.
He’d devolved into a merciless killer, and I was forced to put him down.
There is no escaping fate.
It was a bitter lesson to learn.
It doesn’t matter the species—shifters, witches, vampires, or fae—no one is immune to my abilities. I should be thrilled to never be at the mercy of someone else ever again, but no one should have that much power.
It’s like playing god, and the thought leaves me chilled to the bone.
I can almost understand why my people were hunted and killed.
If I could lock my powers away, I would do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, Gramps warned against the idea, saying I wouldn’t have been given the ability if it wasn’t needed. He meant fighting the council and bringing Kyperian back to its former glory.
That is, if I survive that long.
Unfortunately, that’s just one possibility.
The gods can’t decide our fate.
Our choices tip the balance either to the good or the bad.
I’m doing my best to be mindful of the warnings, but the pressure of knowing every decision could be my downfall is overwhelming. Not using my gift will have its own consequences. Without someone to stand up to the council, their evil will continue to spread.
Late at night, Gramps and I often discussed different scenarios, debating different tactics that might alter the future, yet not one of them included losing him. Sitting on the sidelines ceased to be an option the instant they spilled his blood. If it’s the last thing I do, the council will pay for their crimes with their lives.
I avoid looking at the Orion sitting next to me and glance in the back seat.
As if acknowledging them gives them permission to speak, Dante leans forward, his slate-colored eyes hard. “Maybe it’s time you tell us what the fuck is happening?Whatthe fuck are you?”
What, not who?
I shiver at the slight distinction.
Once again, I’m a thing, not a person, and disappointment pings inside me. For some reason, I thought better of them.
I’m a fool.
