It sounded like an explosion.
A roar tears through the metal ward, quickly followed by wild, erratic bangings. The immortal shifter throwing himself repeatedly against the enclosures. If I were to only walk further in the direction of the sound, I'd see the gruesome smears of blood painting the unbreakable glass.
But like always, I stifle down bile and turn away. Armed men rush past me, going to subdue the man, speakers blaring out commands.
"Hold him down!" one of them orders harshly.
"He's too strong! We need reinforcement."
I make my way down the linoleum floors, making sure to keep my gaze down and away from the transparent prisons. White LED light shines down, the air rife with the cloying scent of antiseptic, death, and decay. I clutch my logbook closer to me, my chest constricting with each breath I pull in.
Rounding into the clinic, I head toward Dr. Sarah's cubicle.
She looks up when I drop the book in front of her. "Here. All done," I say with a forced chirp.
She grabs it immediately. Her eyes scan the report rapidly from behind her glasses. "Odd," she muses under her breath. "Experiment 107 doesn't seem to be reacting to the substance."
My throat tightens and I have to stop myself from shuffling on my feet. I hate the way they refer to the Shifters as experiments. I stop my musings abruptly once I realize the pronoun I'd used. They.
As the months progress, I realize I've started to see myself apart from them. Which is a dangerous thing, because I am a Hunter. Will be until I die.
Anything to protect him.
"Why is that?" I ask, bringing myself back to the present.
She looks up at me as if only realizing I am still in the office with her. "I have no idea. Either he's too strong or has developed a mutation from the previous shots that allows his system to be immune. Anyway, we move on to phase 2. Iridium."
My breaths seize and without thinking I blurt, "But that could kill him."
The office goes deathly quiet.
I had shown consideration for the enemy.
What the hell was that Gwen? I fire internally.
Dr. Sarah seems to also be thinking the same thing because the eyes on me narrow. "And? What is one more death?" Her palms land smack down on the table, causing me to jump. "They've caused countless of ours!"
"I--"
"Am I right in thinking you're becoming a liability, Miss Owens? You know we don't hesitate to cut our losses."
I swallow, looking down at my feet. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sarah."
She sits back, throwing the logbook back at me. "Experiment 487. Check his vitals so we can begin working on him."
I have a bit of a struggle catching the book and after it dances precariously on my open palms, it lands on the floor. The picture staring back at me is his.
'Experiment 487.'
The organization's latest conquest. The Alpha king himself, Malcolm Blaine.
My heart slams against my chest and I pick up the book, palms clammy. Steel grey eyes stare up at me, seeming piercing and life-like even in the inanimate pages. A cold face peers through. So do a pair of high cheekbones, a proud aristocratic nose, and a strong jaw. The expression on his face is fierce, but that does nothing to distract away from his otherworldly beauty.
Locks of hair fall across his stern brows. They're midnight black and look so soft that I find my fingers itching for a feel of them.
I realize I'm staring and worse, Dr. Sarah's gaze is trained on me. My blood cools when I meet her eyes. With an awkward, "I'll be back soon," I leave her office.
My heels click against the vinyl floors. The fighters give me a nod of acknowledgment as I pass through, recognizing me as one of their own. I suddenly feel uncomfortable, like my button-down and pencil skirt are a size too tight. I feel like I'm harbouring a dirty secret.
Which, in reality, I am.
I turn into endless white hallways and soon find myself in an elevator. The ride up is long. Understandably. Mount Pyre has got like a hundred floors.
My first memory as a Hunter flits in. It was two years ago, they were in need of more scientists and I was looking for a way to get into the organization. But just as I got in, I wanted out. This place was filled with murderous fanatics and people who believed the Shifters were the ones responsible for the worst things that ever happened to humanity.
As if humans were the saints.
The glass partitions slide open in front me and I step into a different part of the building. I feel the first threads of dread slide into my stomach. It's always like this. The fear, the uncertainty. I know that before testing the immortals they were sedated out of their minds. But that never stops me from worrying. What if one of them wakes up and decides to be the scourge of the human race the fanatics pipe about?
"Evening," a fighter standing post greets.
"Good evening," I say back.
Taking out my card, I slide the chip into the side of the door. It whirs open, letting me entry.
I walk in. The doors slide close behind me with a finality that has the hairs on my nape rising.
Loosening my shoulders, I tell myself I'm being irrational and draw closer to the large hospital bed.
It is my first time seeing Malcolm.
I wonder how in hell the hunters had managed to capture him. The thought leaves my mind once I get a full view of him.
"Woah..." My face colours at how breathy I sound.
The man is large.
His tan skin stands out amidst the white linens. He is naked from the waist up and I get an eyeful of huge shoulders, corded muscles, rounded pectorals, and a ripped abdomen.
I move closer and check his temperature, recording it. Werewolves have a normal body temperature of what humans consider sick. It still amazes me how different we are from the Shifters. I move the sheets away in an attempt to reach for his wrist and I pause when I see he's naked safe for a pair of boxer briefs.
His lower torso is also uncovered and I make out black ink. What is written there is indecipherable.
I catch myself staring for too long and redden. Really, Gwen. A new low? Ogling a man who's knocked out cold?
I get back to work and stiffen when a low mumble escapes from him. My head snaps up, but my racing heart calms when I see his eyes are still closed shut.
Tired, I lumber home later that evening, taking a cab. Once we round into my lane, I pay the driver and head down the hard concrete. This part of town is industrial, with buildings lumped together and rundown warehouses dotting the street.
Sliding my gaze around, I grip my keys and fit one into the lock. The sound of workers unloading cargo along the harbour fill the night.
Once the door comes open, an excited shriek meets my ears and soon a small body barrels through the living room, leaping into my arms. I giggle, catching him. Pulling back, I stare into his slitted eyes. Gradually they morph back to normal rounded pupils and I smile.
In my arms is the very reason for my existence.
MALCOLM BLAINE.___The resigned voice of one of the four elders in my council floats through the room, stirring my wolf. "Alpha, you need to take a step back and view this matter from a distance. This is not wise."I eye the wide panorama glass stretching the entire east wall before me, scoping out the boisterous city of Manhattan down below. Humans flit around, bundled up in thick wool from the early November chill. Dressed in a plain black tee and a pair of slacks, I hardly feel the cold. My voice is low. "There is no time."Another spoke then, louder and with more conviction, "Your Highness, Garreth is right. Going down to South Carolina is a bad idea. You'll be offering yourself up to the Hunters on a silver platter. Yes, they have your brother but they'll be lying in wait for you. This is a trap. With Prince Bowen being the bait."When I turn around, three of them take a step back at the sight of my wolf's glowing blue eyes, all with the exception of the stooped Elder standing i
I am summoned to Dr. Sarah's office almost immediately.The space is filled with other important personnel and I fight the urge to shuffle under their openly scheming gazes.Dr. Sarah approaches me. She beams at me but I sense a falseness about it. "Gweneth. Everyone has been buzzing about the recent news. But we'd like to hear it from the horse's mouth. Is it true?"She makes it sound like I'd just announced an engagement. To her question, I nod. "Yes. I... It appears I'm his mate." Saying it sounds surreal. Impossible.Shifter-human mating is rare. So rare there hasn't been any recorded cases of it actually happening. But to be fair, we'd only just found out about Shifters a few decades ago.If possible Dr. Sarah's smile widens. She claps like an excited schoolgirl and my discomfort only grows. "This is good news!" She turns her attention to the team behind her and in a breathy voice she announces, "It appears we've just made a breakthrough."White smiles pass around the group and I
MALCOLM__The soft smell of vanilla weaves over the room when my mate walks in.My mate.My chest tightens when she comes closer with that blasted trolley. Her blonde hair is secured in a tight coil at her nape and like always, I am filled with a desperate desire to see it unbound, tumbling down her slender back.Her guileless green eyes take me in and she offers a tentative smile. "Hey.""Release me," I say.For the past four days this has become my reply to her greetings. It has become a ritual of sorts, with her giving me an exasperated reply. But as the days go on, I realize I don't know what exactly I'm asking release from. This godsforsaken place, or the spell she seems to have woven over me. I crave the sight of her.I cannot go a moment without thinking about her. Thinking about what those red, succulent lips taste like.What she'd look like naked.I want to breathe her in, take a deep inhale of that elusive vanilla scent and luxuriate in it.And the fact I feel this way on
GWEN__I have a fitful sleep. In my dreams, I'm in the woods. Glowing blue eyes peer at me from the shadows. Then my legs begin to move and I realize I'm running, tearing through forests as a chilling howl sounds behind me.When I feel the morbid excitement of the animal pounding after me, it is then I realize something. They enjoy the chase.I snap awake with a gasp, breathing heavily. I realize I am being shaken awake.Turning, I look at Rylan's nervous form.His pupils are slitted and his brown hair has shrunk into his skull, rendering him bald. Red scales ride the entire length of his body, giving him a macabre look. I immediately take him into my arms, breathing against his skin, "Oh, Rylan. I'm so sorry." I draw back to frame his face. "Did I wake you?"He's still staring at me, a blank, emotionless look on his face. My chest instantly clenches and in horror, I wonder if he's relieving that night. That awful night. I shake him, eyes flitting around his face. "Rylan. Honey, loo
Up ahead loiter two guards. They look at us, and then look away. But then their heads swivel back around, shock registering on their faces. They'd just drawn out their guns when Malcolm let out a chilling roar. I blink in stark disbelief when one second he's at my side, then the next he's tearing through one of the men with inhumane strength. I think I scream when his head is ripped off his shoulders. The other man's trembling hand frantically reaches for his weapon. He pulls the trigger, sending off a deafening blast. Malcolm manages to sidestep it. When the Hunter makes to shoot again, he swipes at the pistol with his claws. The man goes pale when the weapon splits into two in his hands. He looks up to see Malcolm's heavy fist flying down his face. Once the man slumps down, Malcolm marches for me. His claws are bloody and his eyes glow with rage and bloodlust. He looks so terrifying at that moment that I find myself tur
As I come to, flashes of memory zip through my mind. Glasses exploding.I blink.Sprays of shards raining down.I try to sit up.Tendrils of smoke curling up from the bonnet.My head pounds.A huge body shielding me.I try to sit up again but give up, burrowing into the leather seat. My tongue feels like lead in my mouth. "My poor car," I groan in a barely audible voice.The man seated behind the wheel turns slate grey eyes to me.His huge hand palms the back of my head and I start to reach up in protest when he runs his hand through my hair gently. "No concussion," he says in a smooth baritone, withdrawing his fingers while my face flames.I drag in a breath and sit up. Then wish I hadn't.The windshield is completely destroyed, the rowers broken clean at the hilts. I lean forward, the sun rays connecting directly with my face like I'd just peered out a damned balcony. I turn to Malcolm and sna
MALCOLM__The rest of the ride is done in stiff silence. By the time we're cutting through the edge of North Carolina, I'm brimming with something akin to shame. Gwen's gasp at the sight of my back replays in my mind, driving me to the brink of madness. I know it isn't the greatest sight to behold, but my own mate being disgusted with me... The steering wheel bends under my hands.Inhaling slowly, I retract my claws and push down my wolf.I feel Gwen's gaze on me but I don't meet it, determined to push her to the back of my mind just as I'd done my wolf. It would be easy. Nothing could stand in the way of my control.Gwen stayed on my mind till we checked into our first hotel.I could feel her pleasure at the state of our room, but before she could turn those glittering green eyes brimming with gratitude my way, I stride out of the room.I go to the dinner across the street.The girl behind the counter scrawls my order d
GWEN__I crack my eyes open to an empty room. The drapes billow and a waft of frigid air blows in, causing me to pull the sheets tighter. I sit up, taking in the wide expanse of the luxurious room blearily.Rubbing my eyes, I drag myself up and over to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower, hearing the front door open and close.When I step out of the bathroom, I stop short on seeing some clothes laid out on the bed.A scrap of lace catches my eye and I draw closer to investigate.My mouth falls open when I lift something to my eye level. A white thong."You've got to be kidding me," I mutter.My gaze draws to the rest of the clothes and I pry them apart, my cheeks turning redder the more I see. A white tank top, a mini skirt, and a lacy white bra. At the foot of the bed is a pair of strappy white sandals.The door comes open and I sense Malcolm immediately. I spin around, anger lacing my tone, "The