The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(55)

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“It’s the full moon, Blake!” A frustrated growl rips from his throat. “If I move, I’m going to rip your fucking head off.”

Power rumbles between the two of them, pushing and pulling me in two directions. Pine and shadow collides with the mountains at dawn. Peace and war. Love and hate. A whimper escapes me as the feeling heightens. My senses erupt. I taste seawater and rum at the back of my throat, rose thorns pierce my skin, the steel of battle roars in my ears, and wild bracken cracks beneath my feet. I can’t breathe. Voices, whispers, fill my ears. Fingers claw my body. They pull at me. Taunt me. Try to take from me like everyone always has.

A low sound scrapes against Blake’s throat and his head arches back. Every muscle in his body locks. “Fuck. I can feel her.”

Callum’s arms tighten around me as Blake rises to his feet.

“Stay where you are,” Callum warns.

Blake cracks his neck. His features become cold and hard, chiseled from ice. The wolf is feral in his eyes.

“Don’t.” Callum jerks me back toward the door. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

He sounds far away. Every nerve in my body is alight. My soul is shattering, a million jagged pieces that pierce my insides like glass. I barely notice Blake moving toward us, Callum throwing me behind him and shielding me with his body, the two males making impact. I erupt. A bloodcurdling scream pierces my ears, and I think it’s coming from me. Someone grabs me. A loud crash. My knees buckle.

Bright, blinding light.

Black.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Moonlight floods the room.

A low growl. Primal. Animal.

Bared teeth. Eyes glowing.

A whisper of fur. Two beasts. One black, one tawny. Both huge. A crash. Books cascade to the floor. A desk breaks. They’re fighting, I think.

Howls permeate the castle walls.

Amid it all, a thought.

I have not shifted.

***

I’m being torn apart.

My cheek is pressed against the floorboards. I whimper and push myself to my knees. A snarl makes my head rear up.

Callum and Blake have shifted. They’re both huge, the size of bears, though Callum is slightly bigger. The moonlight shines off their glossy coats. The desk is shattered around them, and glass glints on the floor in front of the fireplace where one of Blake’s bottles has smashed.

Callum has the scruff of Blake’s neck in his maw and as he bites harder, pain flares in the same spot on my neck.

“Stop!” I croak.

Callum’s head snaps toward me, and his growl dies when his green eyes lock onto mine. I feel him, sense him—his scent floods my lungs, and with it, a calmness settles over me. He’s still in there. He’s still Callum.

My eyes widen. Blake hurtles into Callum’s side. The tawny wolf flies across the room and slams into the wall by the door. He releases a whimper as he crashes onto the floor. Books, piled by the wall, cascade on top of him.

“Callum!”

I turn toward him, but there’s a thud, and Blake looms over me. His paws are huge, and his claws dig into the floorboards. I try to crawl away, but he sinks his teeth into the back of my dress and drags me across the floor. I land on my back by the foot of the bed.

“Blake, stop it!”

I try to get up. A great weight presses down on my stomach, squeezing the breath out of me. Blake’s body is stiff, his ears pulled back. Callum is on his feet, and the two lock eyes. Both growl.

I can tell Callum is still himself, but Blake feels different. Feral. Dangerous. His shadows, which exist inside me, move and spread in all directions, and I can make no sense of them. I shove him, and my fingers sink into silky fur.

“Blake. Get off me.”

My vision blurs as Callum paces back and forth. Every time Callum gets closer, Blake’s growl vibrates through me, and Callum inches back.

Another surge of pain crashes over me. My soul feels frayed, like threads of it are being pulled apart. I stiffen, then whimper. Blake’s great weight pushes down on my stomach, squeezing the breath out of me.

Sweet darkness pulls me under.

***

My face is pressed against something hot and hard, and the scent of male and forests fills my lungs. My skin buzzes, but I no longer feel as if my soul is being shredded apart. A soft sigh escapes me. I peel open my eyelids. My heart stills.

My face is crushed against Blake’s bare chest. Our bodies are flush, and one of my hands is slung over his waist, as if I clung to him in my sleep. Blake’s fingers brush the back of my neck.

Adrenaline surges through my body. I suppress the snarl that builds inside me as my teeth tingle. Something whispers. Bite. Bite. Bite. There’s something wrong with me. Panic swirls in my chest, and my breathing is fast. I’m going to. . . I can’t stop myself from. . . I open my mouth.

Blake stirs. He dips his chin, and panic flares in his eyes.

He is wrenched away from me. There’s the thud of bare feet, the dragging sound of Blake trying to find his footing, then a slam and a rattle.

I push myself to my knees. Callum presses Blake against the wall by the cold hearth. My eyes widen. Both are naked. Their clothes are torn in shred on the floorboards, among splintered wood and books and parchment. Weak sunlight strains through the window and highlights the shuddering muscles in Callum’s back.