Gannon.
Wait.
My head snaps to Ellery and my eyes go wide with shock, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest as dread creeps down my throat and spreads through my chest.
He just asked me if my leg was okay. Except, I never told him where I was bitten. I mentioned the wolves and that I thought I’d been bitten, but I never said where.
Fear seeps into my limbs as I look from Ellery to Gannon to Morgan Arcan. They’re blocking the door, so I start backing up to get closer to the windows behind Ellery’s desk. All three men take a concerned step toward me at my alarmed reaction, and I stumble back until my shoulder blades smash into a wall.
Wedging myself into the corner of the office, memories bombard me from when I woke up this morning. Ruger and Perth were talking about an Ellery—who’d just left before I woke up—and a Gannon—who…bit me.
Holy fucking shit.
Betrayal swarms me like cloying jellyfish, stinging me relentlessly for not making the connection sooner.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
They’re in on it. They’re part of the cult, and I’m trapped.
9
NOAH
My breath hitches and my pulse flutters in my neck so rapidly I can feel it. A prey animal captured by three deadly predators, my heart rattles my ribs.
Ellery raises his hands and gentles his voice, bending until he’s eye level with me as he moves behind his desk, blocking my access to the windows. “It’s okay, Noah, you’re safe. We’re going to explain everything. No one is going to hurt you, I swear it.”
Panic claws at me because he has to be fucked in the head if he thinks I’m going to believe him. Then again, of course he’s fucked in the head; he’s in the same cult that attacked me last night. And now I’m cornered in a room with him and two other big-ass crazies I couldn’t fight on my best day.
Doesn’t mean I won’t fight though. I will not go down easily, and they’re not going to catch me from behind this time.
A bestial snarl fills the room, the sound a vicious warning. It isn’t until I feel a strange rumble moving through my chest that I realize the sound is coming from me.
Shocked, I slap my hand over my mouth to silence the hair-raising noise, a terrified squeak sneaking out of me as the growl abruptly cuts off.
Morgan Arcan chuckles like he thinks whatever the fuck I just did was adorable.
Bastard.
I level him with a cold glare, which only seems to amuse him even more.
A strange cloud of relax, it’s going to be just fine blows over me and muddles my thoughts the longer I stare at him. I can feel an unwelcome sensation of warm fuzzies constrict around me, and I mentally bat it away like I would a swarm of mosquitos.
“What the actual fuck is going on?” I demand, removing my eyes from the older man and training my scowl on Gannon and then Ellery. At least they look appropriately remorseful right now instead of amused.
“Just let us explain,” Ellery hedges, and I scoff.
“You sound just like the other two cult crazies from this morning,” I snap at him.
“But of course, he does, they’re all somehow in on this…whatever this even is.”
As if he can hear my wild thoughts, Ellery holds up a placating hand. “Nothing bad is going on. We’re not a cult. I promise everything is going to make sense if you’ll just hear us out.”
“So, get fucking talking!” I bark at him, so fed up with all of this I want to cry.
The drumming in my head starts again, and color seems to leach from my vision, making everything look strange. Hysteria surges inside my body. It squeezes my throat, making me feel like my veins are expanding and contracting, compressing so tightly that my blood can’t get through.
I’m dying.
Is that what this is?
A dizzy sensation ripples through me, and I don’t know if I’m fading like Ellery thought earlier, but I can feel that my body is on the edge of collapse, because my heart suddenly stops its rapid beating and gives a thick, sluggish throb.
Holding myself upright suddenly seems far too difficult. I reach for the walls behind me, fingertips skimming the paint on either side of the corner I’ve tucked myself into. The texture of the wall feels like sandpaper against my fingertips.
“You’re special, Noah,” Ellery says softly.
No.
No!
That’s what cult leaders or psychopaths spout—right before they peel off your skin and wear it as a shirt.
“In fact, everyone here is special because we can do something that humans can’t,” Morgan adds reassuringly, but I feel anything but reassured right now.
“Humans?” My voice cracks on that word, which barely gets out before my throat snaps shut and I suddenly can’t breathe.
“You’re not human. And what you’re feeling right now is the first sign that you aren’t. You’re eerie. You’re a wolf shifter,” Morgan Arcan continues. His voice is placid and soothing, reminding me of a smooth lake, though his words gouge a hole through my entire reality.
Ridiculous.
Insane.
It can’t be.
But goose bumps ripple and rise, and the back of my neck tingles as if someone’s blown on it—because a tiny part of me believes…he might be telling the truth.
Before I have time to fully process why, the door behind Gannon swings open, and an older woman in pink scrubs carrying a black medical bag strides confidently in. I whimper at the sight of her.
How can I possibly take in anymore right now? I’m hemmed into a corner and considering the possibility that everything I saw last night wasn’t a hallucination. I can’t take anything or anyone else—
She sets down her bag on the desk and raises her hands as if to show me she’s not a threat, but that only sets off all the red flags, because every damned person in this town has tried to disarm me this way, and I keep ending up hurt.
“Hello. I’m Imogen. I’m a healer.” Her gaze sweeps over me, assessing me clinically before she turns to Ellery. “This definitely isn’t the Fade. But she looks like she’s about to shift for the first time and can’t quite get there.” Turning to Morgan Arcan, she asks, “Alpha, permission to assist her magically?”
Morgan Arcan nods just as Ellery adds, “She’s a naif,” repeating the term he used earlier.
Imogen grimaces in response and it looks like she’s biting back a string of expletives. Or I might be projecting, because right now I’m filled to the brim with curse words and fear and anger.
When she turns a pitying expression my way, I want to smack her.
All I want is for someone to tell me none of this is real and let me leave.
I just want this to be a vivid nightmare.
But, instead of telling me what I want to hear, Imogen says, “I’m here to get you through your first shift, okay?” The woman’s voice has the low tone of a chain-smoker. And everything she’s saying sounds as unappealing as a cigarette.
“First shift. What the motherfuck?”
“You’re about to shift into your wolf for the first time. It’s going to hurt, and it’s going to be confusing, but we’ll be right here with you. We’ll get you through it. And we’ll show you how to be the shifter you were always meant to be,” Morgan Arcan speaks steadily.