Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2)

by Veronica Douglas

  Savannah, who was trembling.

  “It didn’t turn red,” she whispered.

  I said nothing because I’d seen it, too, and I had no fucking clue what that

  meant. The wounds on my back began to heal, and the glass shards dropped

  to ground as my body ejected them. Once I was certain Savannah was

  unharmed, I turned to Alia, who was inspecting the mess on her table.

  “Damn. That’s never happened before,” she muttered.

  “Yes, but what does it mean?” Savannah crossed toward Alia, wringing

  her hands in worry.

  The potion maker inspected the base of the beaker with a frown. “Well, it

  means that it’s not fucking lycanthropy, and now there’s pee everywhere.”

  Savannah braced herself against the table. “So I can’t be cured?”

  My stomach knotted. What the hell had they done to her?

  Alia sighed, traces of remorse in her beautiful features. “I’m sorry. I don’t

  know what this is, and the only cure I have is for lycanthropy. If you were to

  take it, it would likely kill you. It’s too risky.”

  Savannah strode to the window overlooking the balcony, hugging herself

  tightly. Her deep melancholy tore at me, and my wolf surged in my chest. I

  stepped close and gently touched my hand to her back, subtly pushing my

  alpha presence into her to calm the turmoil of emotion behind her sad eyes.

  Perhaps there was no cure.

  My wolf strained in my chest with excitement, but I shoved him down

  and bent my head close to her ear. “Let’s go.”

  17

  Savannah

  I let Jaxson drive. That was a clear indication of just how mentally

  messed up I was. To be fair, it was also his truck, and he’d taken the keys.

  But I would have let him drive anyway. Probably.

  I was a hollow shell of the woman I had once been. A husk. I leaned back

  in the passenger seat and put my face in my hands. “God, Jax, I’m so

  screwed. What am I going to do?”

  “We’ll figure this out,” he said, pitching his voice low. It stroked the ends

  of my nerves, soothing me for a moment. But I knew it for what it was—an

  illusion. Just a product of his damned presence and power and the weird sway

  he had over me. A false calm.

  “Figure this out?” I snapped, refusing to be mollified. “I have a sorcerer

  trying to kill me or abduct me or just mind-fuck me, and now I’m turning into

  a monster. How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?”

  Jaxson’s hands tightened on the wheel. “You’re turning into a werewolf.

  Whether you act like a monster is up to you.”

  His bitterness was palpable, a caustic scent that burned my nostrils and

  made my stomach sink. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You meant exactly what you said.” His words were curt and resentful.

  Man, he despised me.

  I frowned, smelling my own embarrassment and shame. He was right—

  I’d meant what I’d said. He was a monster. A man that grew claws and fangs

  and turned into a ravening wolf. I was surrounded by monsters. Jaxson. The

  pack. The sorcerer. My family. And now me, too.

  I leaned my head against the window. Trucks roared by us, the

  thunderous rumble of their engines straining my ears. People chatting on the

  street all sounded like they were shouting, and cars honking blocks away

  seemed like they were blaring their horns right behind me.

  I gritted my teeth. “Everything is so loud all the time now. My ears are

  going to burst. How do you deal with this?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re heading somewhere quieter. I expect it’ll take time

  to get used to the sensitivity. Your hearing and sense of smell are probably

  ten times what they were before. You’ll learn to filter. Hopefully, it’ll be

  second nature before long.”

  “Hopefully not. We need to get this fixed, fast. I’m not supposed to be a

  werewolf.”

  You are, growled a voice in the back of my head.

  “I’m not!” I snarled, then blushed as Jaxson raised his eyebrows.

  Great. Now I was talking to myself.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Look, there are other people we can go to—seers, witches, maybe even

  the archmages. But for now, you’re a werewolf, and you have a sorcerer

  coming after you. You have to learn to control your wolf, or it’ll emerge at

  the wrong time and put you in danger.”

  I took a deep breath. He was right. If I lost control when a demon

  attacked, I’d be toast. Or what if Casey or Laurel or Uncle Pete found out?

  I’d lose the little family I’d gained.

  My stomach churned. “How can I control it? I don’t understand what’s

  happening to me at all.”

  Jaxson turned down a side street and started driving east. “Practice. When

  your mood turns, when you get scared or angry, your claws will come out.

  We’re going to start practicing so that you can pull them back and hide your

  nature.”

  I looked down at my hands and breathed slowly in and out, trying to calm

  my rising nerves. “Fine. Show me the ropes.”

  A deep rumble left his throat, and his lips curled up in a taunting smile.

  “If your wolf is anything like you, this could get interesting.”

  I glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, it’s just a guess, but your wolf

  might be a little unruly.”

  I bared my teeth at him, and when that did nothing to diminish his smile, I

  turned and looked out the window. “I don’t understand werewolves at all.

  You talk about your wolf and my wolf. Do you just change into a different

  form? Or is your wolf…I don’t know, a separate thing from you? You talk

  like it’s a whole other entity sometimes.”

  Jaxson pulled into a desolate parking lot on the south side of the

  dockyards. Cranes were hoisting long containers from a cargo ship and

  stacking them on the shore with deafening thuds. It was sort of quieter, but at

  least there was nobody around.

  He shut off the truck. “You and your wolf are the same. But just like your

  body changes when you turn into a wolf, your mind and personality change

  as well. They become more wolflike, and you might discover that your

  desires, instincts, and priorities change. That’s why I generally find it easier

  to talk in terms of what I think versus what my wolf wants.”

  I opened my door and climbed out. The parking lot was little more than

  cracked and broken asphalt surrounded by an expanse of tall grass and native

  weeds.

  I sighed. “So…what does a wolf think like? Will I just want to hunt

  rabbits?”

  “No,” he growled. “Could you be more insulting?”

  “Sorry.” To be fair, the scent of various unidentified animals lurking in

  the deep grass had definitely caught my attention. My stomach rumbled, and

  I blushed.

  Jaxson made a path through the weeds, heading toward the lakeshore.

  “Wolves are cunning, proud, and loyal. Frankly, thoughts in wolf form

  generally make a lot more sense than those of most people.”

  That doesn’t take much. People are nuts, said the little voice in the back

  of my mind. I shoved my rogue thoughts down and followe
d.

  Jaxson continued speaking as we waded through the scrub. “When you’re

  in human form, your wolf is repressed. But it doesn’t go away entirely. And

  when its priorities are different than yours, it might speak up.”

  “Speak up?”

  “Like a voice in your head. Your thoughts, but also not your thoughts.”

  I paused and gripped Jaxson’s arm, pulling him up short. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” His eyes flicked to my outstretched hand on his arm. I could feel

  the energy flowing between us, but I was too lost in thought to care.

  “I think it’s been speaking to me. For a while,” I whispered.

  I’ve been doing this for a long time. I’m beginning to think that maybe

  you’re not a great noticer of things.

  “You didn’t notice?” Jaxson asked, echoing the irritatingly snarky voice

  in my head.

  “I thought…I thought it was just snappy inner dialog. I’ve always had

  that.” My heartbeat accelerated. “Like…can I talk to it?”

  Yes.

  My jaw dropped, but Jaxson just watched.

  “Um, hi?”

  Hi. Let me out, already.

  “It…wants out,” I stammered.

  And bacon or rabbits, the voice added.

  “Not surprising,” Jaxson said. “We’ll get there soon. Claws first.”

  We stepped onto the three-tiered limestone seawall that lined the shore of

  Magic Side. Waves crashed below. Even though they were small, they were

  thunderous to my oversensitive ears.

  My stomach twisted. This was a bit too much reality, but I stuck my

  hands out. “What do I do?”

  “Concentrate on how they felt, what they looked like when they first

  emerged. Channel the experience,” Jaxson suggested.

  That was when Casey’s friends had taunted me. I remembered the

  burning sensation in my fingertips. I pushed with my mind, trying to make

  them come out. When nothing happened, I tried flexing all the muscles in my

  fingers. Frustration began to choke me. “It doesn’t work!”

  Jaxson’s eyes burned into me. “Often, we start to shift because of an

  emotion. Anger. Think about what happened that made them emerge the first

  time.”

  I groaned inwardly but closed my eyes and tried to recall the faces of the

  two pricks at the bonfire. I replayed their taunts and derision and inuendo.

  Rage crept across my neck and shoulders, and my muscles tensed, but no

  claws emerged.

  That wasn’t the first time, the voice in my head said.

  It was.

  But then I thought of the twisted horror that had called me from my house

  in the night—the noctith demon. Had I clawed it?

  Not that. Look deeper.

  No.

  Deeper, the voice insisted.

  I fought with all my will, but the thing inside of me forced an image of

  Billy into my mind. His face was frozen in horror and disbelief. Blood poured

  from his chest and across my clawed hands.

  My eyes flew wide as pain erupted through my fingertips. My claws

  ripped free, and I stumbled back and cried out in surprise. Drops of blood

  trickled down my hands where my new talons had emerged, but the skin

  around them had already healed.

  Blood-covered claws.

  Stomach churning and near to vomiting, I bent over and tried to think of

  anything but Billy. I knew that somehow, he was responsible for all of this.

  Jaxson steadied me, and warmth flowed from his hands. It mercifully

  drove the haunting images of Billy from my mind and the nausea from my

  gut.

  “Good,” Jaxson half-growled. His praise and lingering touch sent a shiver

  of delight along my spine. I hated that.

  With a defiant snarl, I shook my hands out and wiped the tears from the

  corners of my eyes with the back of my wrist. “Fuck. Does it hurt less after a

  while?”

  He shrugged. “Great transformations take pain. The first few times are

  always the hardest, when every sensation is new and raw.”

  I bit my lip and turned to gaze over the lake. I wasn’t sure what I was

  searching for out there. A way out? Relief? Answers?

  I watched the waves and cupped my throbbing hands.

  Jaxson stepped up behind me, and his breath caressed my neck. Though

  our bodies didn’t touch, his heat still warmed the skin beneath my clothes.

  My neck flushed, but I didn’t move away.

  He pressed his cheek against my hair and whispered, “Eventually, the line

  between pain and pleasure blurs. It becomes a symbol of your power to

  transform both your body and mind. To become something new.”

  His fingers slipped from my shoulders and ran down along my arms. His

  touch was so light, it felt electric, and I was certain that he sensed me

  shivering beneath his fingers. My control fading, I pressed my body back

  against the hard warmth of his.

  His fingers continued drifting down my bare forearms until they came to

  rest on the back of my hands. Then, with an agonizingly gentle motion, he

  gently traced his fingertips backward from my claws, along my fingers, to the

  backs of my hands.

  My claws slowly retracted, slipping inside my body, and I shuddered.

  “Did that hurt?” he asked, low and gravelly.

  I tensed and set my jaw. “Yes,” I whispered. “But not like before.”

  He pushed his fingers along my hands. Pain tore through my fingertips as

  my claws extended once again. I winced and stifled a cry as I pushed my

  body against his.

  Slowly, over and over, he slid my claws in and out, in and out, until the

  sensation was familiar, until I was drunk on his touch.

  Jaxson’s scent was all around me. Mossy earth and fresh forest, and the

  taste of melting snow. I could barely stand it with my improved senses. My

  legs quaked, but not from the ache in my hands.

  “Now you try. Pull back your own claws, little wolf,” he whispered into

  my hair in a voice that wasn’t quite his. Something feral.

  An hour ago, I would have stabbed him for calling me that. But now, I

  was intoxicated with his scent and his power. Something about the way his

  breath formed the words next to my ear made the heat rise between my

  thighs, and I wanted only to please him.

  “How?” I asked, my question drifting out in a dreamlike state.

  “Like before. Look down at your hands. Now they have claws. Think of

  how they look when you draw, when you paint. Focus your mind on your

  human form.”

  I did as I was told, bringing the image of my hands sketching into my

  mind. Nothing happened, and my body began to shake from frustration and

  the strain. I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. How was I supposed to

  concentrate with his arms around me? With his powerful scent so close? I

  could feel every curve and dip of his muscled form pressed to my back,

  patiently waiting.

  The idea of focus was preposterous.

  But I didn’t push him away. Instead, I gave up trying and savored his

  scent. I should have hated him. But in that moment, I was content to let my

  thoughts drift away, to imagine how it might feel to trace my own fingers

  across the contours of his chest.

  With a spark of pain, my claws slipped back into m
y fingers. I choked in

  surprise. “I did it!”

  Jaxson gave a low laugh, and I swelled with pride. I felt a force inside of

  me stir, desperate to be released. The wolf.

  Let me out! the feminine voice demanded.

  Be patient with me, I thought back, hoping that would work.

  I concentrated on my hands and imagined my claws erupting from my

  fingers.

  But with Jaxson so close, I couldn’t focus on Billy or my rage or my fear.

  The sensations of his body drowned everything else out with my back and ass

  pressed up against him. He was rigid and powerful, and everywhere we

  touched, my skin burned with desire.

  Stop thinking about boning Jaxson and let me free, damn it all!

  The voice of the wolf brought me to attention like a slap in the face. My

  mind reeled, and I glared down at my fingertips, pushing with all my will as

  the color rose to my cheeks.

  My arms jerked as my claws shot out, and I gasped in triumph. “I did—”

  But before I could finish, my arms bent and began to twist. Hair burst

  from my skin, and I yelped as my shoulder popped out of place. My jaw and

  nose began to ache, and fangs erupted. My gut twisted in protest and

  rebellion.

  I struggled in Jaxson’s arms and tried to break free, even though I knew I

  couldn’t outrun the monster tearing its way out of me.

  “Too far,” he growled, then grabbed my wrists. With a swift motion, he

  collapsed my arms against my chest and pinned me back against his body like

  a vise. But I didn’t stop shifting. My legs trembled and my back arched as the

  transformation took hold. I was too scared to even scream or gasp for air.

  Jaxson bound me tight and pushed his power into me. Wave after wave, it

  pulsed through my body, forcing the beast within into submission.

  Everywhere we touched burned with delight, and the monster finally calmed.

  Slowly, the hair on my arms withdrew, and my claws retracted. I collapsed in

  his grasp, horrified and spent.

  “I like that you’re ambitious, but you need to walk before you run,”

  Jaxson said, his voice husky.

  “She wanted out. I couldn’t stop her,” I whispered.

  He relaxed his arms, and he stepped around to face me. “Of course she

  did,” he said, and gently brushed the hair from my face. “Mastering a partial

  shift is hard. It requires control and dominance over your inner beast. The full