end of the corridor to the double doors, where he pushed outside, breathing in the lush scents of the forest with profound relief.
Despite his earlier exhaustion and the ache in his bad leg, he’d gotten a second wind and had no hope of sleeping until he expended this strange energy. His body was a powder keg set to go off. He felt too big for his skin, ready to burst. His nerves hummed like live wires, crackling to his toes.
Because of Kira Locke.
No. He wouldn’t accept that. Because accepting she was responsible for the weird reactions he’d been experiencing ever since he’d first laid eyes on her, inhaled that alluring citrus and vanilla scent, meant acknowledging an implication he just wasn’t ready to face. Not now.
Maybe never.
Haven’t you learned your lesson? No woman can love a man who’s half beast. Not without Disney manufacturing the ending.
Making his way across the training course and shooting range, he picked up the pace. His wolf wanted out and he was ready to oblige. At the edge of the trees he shed his clothing, leaving it in a pile to retrieve later.
Tilting his face up, he closed his eyes, released his hold over the beast, and let the change overtake him. Muscle and bone reshaped, and he dropped to all fours as his thick coat emerged. The process wasn’t without some pain in his joints and in his injured leg, but was nothing like the agony they’d endured five years ago, when the animal within was new and they’d fought it with all their power. Resisting had made it worse and was a mistake each of them had quickly learned not to make.
Embracing their feral nature had brought heartache in spades, closed the door on their old lives forever. But it also included a few benefits, and this was one of the best—to run with the night, hunt and kill. To feast and then howl to the heavens, though whether in triumph or loneliness he wasn’t always sure. To simply be and leave human worries behind, if only for a while.
He ran, relishing the earth under his paws, the wind in his face. Thankfully, his injury was lessened, as usual, in wolf form, and he was able to enjoy his run. After a while he scented a rabbit and chased it from a cozy burrow near a fallen log, knowing it didn’t stand a chance. The need to taste fresh meat, savor the sweet juices, ruled his canine heart and mind.
Until he held the writhing creature down with massive paws and it shrieked in terror, long and loud. Many nights in the past he’d hunted and not been affected by the cries of his prey. The weak fed the strong, and that was the way of the entire world. One slice of his claws, one snap of jaws, and the struggle would be over, the larger beast sustained. Why should the rabbit’s valiant will to survive affect his human half tonight?
Slowly, he eased off the rabbit and it wriggled free, gave a leap, and shot into the underbrush. His wolf whined at his inexplicable actions, giving up a hard-won snack. Maybe he’d had enough killing for one night.
Spinning, he ran again, heading for a stream about a mile from the compound that he liked to visit. The spot was secluded, on Institute property, and relatively safe even at this distance from the main building. Even if the most die-hard camper or hunter ventured this far into the wilderness, they’d be brought up short by a highsecurity fence topped with razor wire. Should anyone be stupid enough to try to breach it, silent alarms would notify the team as to the location of the would-be intruder and he would be dealt with.
Reaching his destination, he padded to the bank’s edge, stuck his nose in the frigid water, and drank. When he’d had his fill, he raised his head, scented the air to make certain none of his team was nearby. Satisfied, he shifted and stood.
Damn, he’d hoped the run would not only clear his head, but rid him of the rampant arousal jutting from between his thighs. If anything, the freedom of his run had only made it worse. Scowling down at his
Despite his earlier exhaustion and the ache in his bad leg, he’d gotten a second wind and had no hope of sleeping until he expended this strange energy. His body was a powder keg set to go off. He felt too big for his skin, ready to burst. His nerves hummed like live wires, crackling to his toes.
Because of Kira Locke.
No. He wouldn’t accept that. Because accepting she was responsible for the weird reactions he’d been experiencing ever since he’d first laid eyes on her, inhaled that alluring citrus and vanilla scent, meant acknowledging an implication he just wasn’t ready to face. Not now.
Maybe never.
Haven’t you learned your lesson? No woman can love a man who’s half beast. Not without Disney manufacturing the ending.
Making his way across the training course and shooting range, he picked up the pace. His wolf wanted out and he was ready to oblige. At the edge of the trees he shed his clothing, leaving it in a pile to retrieve later.
Tilting his face up, he closed his eyes, released his hold over the beast, and let the change overtake him. Muscle and bone reshaped, and he dropped to all fours as his thick coat emerged. The process wasn’t without some pain in his joints and in his injured leg, but was nothing like the agony they’d endured five years ago, when the animal within was new and they’d fought it with all their power. Resisting had made it worse and was a mistake each of them had quickly learned not to make.
Embracing their feral nature had brought heartache in spades, closed the door on their old lives forever. But it also included a few benefits, and this was one of the best—to run with the night, hunt and kill. To feast and then howl to the heavens, though whether in triumph or loneliness he wasn’t always sure. To simply be and leave human worries behind, if only for a while.
He ran, relishing the earth under his paws, the wind in his face. Thankfully, his injury was lessened, as usual, in wolf form, and he was able to enjoy his run. After a while he scented a rabbit and chased it from a cozy burrow near a fallen log, knowing it didn’t stand a chance. The need to taste fresh meat, savor the sweet juices, ruled his canine heart and mind.
Until he held the writhing creature down with massive paws and it shrieked in terror, long and loud. Many nights in the past he’d hunted and not been affected by the cries of his prey. The weak fed the strong, and that was the way of the entire world. One slice of his claws, one snap of jaws, and the struggle would be over, the larger beast sustained. Why should the rabbit’s valiant will to survive affect his human half tonight?
Slowly, he eased off the rabbit and it wriggled free, gave a leap, and shot into the underbrush. His wolf whined at his inexplicable actions, giving up a hard-won snack. Maybe he’d had enough killing for one night.
Spinning, he ran again, heading for a stream about a mile from the compound that he liked to visit. The spot was secluded, on Institute property, and relatively safe even at this distance from the main building. Even if the most die-hard camper or hunter ventured this far into the wilderness, they’d be brought up short by a highsecurity fence topped with razor wire. Should anyone be stupid enough to try to breach it, silent alarms would notify the team as to the location of the would-be intruder and he would be dealt with.
Reaching his destination, he padded to the bank’s edge, stuck his nose in the frigid water, and drank. When he’d had his fill, he raised his head, scented the air to make certain none of his team was nearby. Satisfied, he shifted and stood.
Damn, he’d hoped the run would not only clear his head, but rid him of the rampant arousal jutting from between his thighs. If anything, the freedom of his run had only made it worse. Scowling down at his
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