Malcolm?
I turn in stunned surprise as Jaeger steps forward, lowering his body in preparation to lunge. I've only seen him do that once before, when one of the wild coyotes that used to roam our backyard refused to stay away after Papa brought Jaeger home. The wolf pounced on the coyote, killed it with a sickening crunch to its neck, then spat the body aside before walking away as though the taste disgusted him. Nothing ever entered our yard again.
A minotaur-like Therian materializes from the trees, with the head and legs of a bull atop the broad, muscular torso and arms of a man. His crimson eyes lock onto Jaeger. One by one, more Therians emerge from the darkness until the entire tree line is crowded with looming silhouettes of every shape and size. The sheer number of them unleashes the second-worst scent a predator can detect from prey.
Fear.
I steel myself then make my third instinctive mistake. I run. Panic drives me toward the house, but the starlight is too faint to light the way. I sprint on nothing but memory, praying my feet remember the path better than my eyes can see it. Even then, I know I'm not going to make it. The night breeze lashes across my skin like a whip before swelling into a violent whirlwind at my back. Hot breath rides the gale as it slams into me, hurling my hair across my face and stealing what little light remained. Then something hits me with the force of a falling tree and I crash to the ground, the impact driving every ounce of air from my lungs. The right side of my face slams into jagged rocks and hard-packed earth. Above me, enormous wings beat the air with thunderous force.
The night explodes into wildness and brutality. Vicious growls and snarls tear through the darkness as the scent of blood and fear saturates the air with savagery. Fury and frustration, having simmered too close to the surface for too long, finally erupt into raw violence. Therians of every species pour into the yard, battling one another with all the fierce ferocity of predators, each fighting for the chance to reach me.
I try to stand, but before I can get my feet beneath me, cold, long fingers wrap around my wrist and yank me upright with nauseating speed. Darius’ customary pale blue eyes are consumed by black, their hungry stare fixed on me. His nostrils flare beneath his aquiline nose, drawing in the scent of my blood. His customary pale-blue eyes are now consumed by black, their hungry stare fixed on me. His nostrils flare beneath his aquiline nose, drawing in the scent of my blood. His fangs—two elongated incisors sharpened to deadly points, the longer meant to pierce flesh and the shorter to deliver the venom that paralyzes its victim—glimmer in the dim light. If I've learned anything about vampires and blood, it's that very few of them can resist the taste of mine.
He breathes heavily, instinct and restraint hanging in the balance behind his parted lips. His fingers tighten around my wrist until his forefinger rests against my pulse, following the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat. The blackness spreads across his irises until nothing remains but polished onyx, his entire gaze transformed into the unmistakable face of raw hunger. I stare, afraid he’s going to feed.
Instead, Darius abruptly releases my wrist, seizes me by both shoulders, and hurls me toward the house with such force that I fly through the air like a ragdoll. A startled cry escapes me as the savagery raging outside is swallowed by the strange silence that exists only during flight, where time seems to suspend itself between what has been and what is about to come.
My body crashes into the back door, ripping it from its hinges. I scream as the impact tears my upper arm from its socket, a sickening pop echoing through the pain. My vision blurs at the edges, the room tilting as the alluring pull of unconsciousness drags me toward darkness. Then Papa's voice bellows somewhere beyond the haze. I suck in a startled breath as though I'd been drowning instead of standing on the brink of losing consciousness.
That’s when I feel it, something dark slithering under my skin, burning through my fear until nothing remains but a power so immense, so oppressive, that I can barely feel anything else. Fire and ice surge through my veins in the same heartbeat, erupting from my chest before cascading through my stomach, down my arms, and into my legs. Every nerve awakens to something ancient. Without willing it, I rise straight up from the kitchen floor.The movement is swift and unnaturally smooth, my body lifting vertically. Silence descends, swallowing the snarls, screams, and crashing of bodies outside until a vast emptiness wraps around me, dulling every emotion and leaving only absolute stillness in its wake.
As though watching someone else's body, I turn away from Papa's stunned expression and cross the shattered doorway toward the Therians outside: wolves, bears, panthers, coyotes, and even a dragon. I feel every one of them, one-hundred and twenty-six Therians, most of them alphas seeking a powerful mate. The power growing inside of me pulls at the Therians’ essences, threading itself through the air, finding each Therian's essence, slipping into the magic flowing through their veins, drawing it inexorably toward me. The force of it crushes them where they stand. One after another, every Therian drops to his knees, their heads bowed against their will beneath a power none of them can resist, including the dragon. Even Darius.
Impassively, I stare at them, power coursing through my body like living currents of electricity. It races beneath my skin as I command the Therians' essences and, with them, their every movement. I now hold these shifters who imprisoned me beneath the weight of their instincts, who sought to bend me to their will through violence and aggression, and feel nothing but the power of my dominance.
But amid the silence and darkness, the cold detachment and dispassion, the overwhelming power I now wield over the Therian Alphas and the undeniable strength to be their queen, a tall Black man with locks falling past his broad shoulders saunters toward me with unwavering confidence. Winter-grey eyes glow with a power that rivals my own, burning with quiet dominance as he closes the distance between us. of an Alpha who has never doubted his place in the world. When he finally stops before me, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. He meets my gaze, but this time he holds it, and in this dark world of shadows and monsters, I see nothing else but him.
Recognition melts the dominating power that holds me captive, the crushing silence giving way to the frantic pounding of my heartbeat. My knees buckle, and I collapse before him, dragging in a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding throughout my momentary madness. Malcolm stops only inches away and inhales deeply. The simple breath ignites something entirely different within me. A warmth coils low in my stomach before unfurling through every part of my body, spreading in slow, rhythmic waves that leave my pulse racing. Desire stirs alongside an aching, instinctive need.
“Malcolm,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes, drawing me into his breath. Something inside my chest flexes and compresses like a taut rubber band, the heat of it binding me to him. Then it stretches, pulling tighter, drawing my thoughts, my emotions, and my very essence toward his. In that single breath I fully recognize that he is the boy with the Winter-eyes, who’d stood beside me beneath a cloudless blue sky on the day my mother died, his larger hand wrapped around my tiny one. He was Malcolm.
He is Jaeger.
Breathless and overwhelmed, my vision blurs, my eye roll to the back as the world slips away, and I pass out.