Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) Read Free Page B

my heart.
    So this was it . Werewolf dinner. Fuck. I cursed Feradea, the deity responsible for protecting Shifters, and braced for impact.
    A large black wolf trotted into the clearing to confront me. He had a white-tipped snout, white boots and mitts and would have looked cute had he not been the most intimidating Werewolf I’d ever seen. Standing tall and solid, power rolled off of his body. His eyes bore into mine. I sniffed the air. The strong Werewolf scent of rosemary swirled around me, strong and seductive, laced with sugar. A weird fuzzy sensation spread out from my chest. Whoa .
    Alpha.
    My other form growled low, demanding release, straining against my skin. The energy of the wolves built—layers upon layers of excitement and impatience. The air pulsated with anticipation. They could sense the imminent kill.
    Let me out! My other form repeated, throwing her power against my built up walls, howling in defiance.
    When the energy of the Werewolves surged, I finally released her. My wolf form flowed out fast, wiping out the feline in little more than a heartbeat. Smaller, weaker and the size of a natural wolf, a Shifter in this form was no match for a Werewolf, especially a dominant one. I had time to meet the eyes of the Alpha for only an instant before the pack leapt forward. My limbs shook. It went against every instinct ingrained within me, but I rolled onto my back—submissive.
    I squeezed my eyelids shut and waited. Every muscle tensed. But the pack never reached me. Popping my eyes back open, I stared at the smooth belly of the alpha standing over my prone body, snarling a warning to his pack. All tension flowed out of my body in an unexpected release. My head felt suddenly light.
    Holy crap, it worked.
    Maybe I should thank Feradea. I relaxed, granted respite for the time being. There would be repercussions for my actions, but they’d have to wait. The adrenalin left my system, and the toll of my injuries consumed my body. As my vision faded to black, I wondered how I would escape the mess I’d just surrendered myself to.

Chapter Three
    When the haze weighing down my senses cleared, I realized I lay naked in a strange bed, which smelled of wolf, man and floral dryer sheets. I’d woken up dazed in a stranger's bed before, but this was no wild night out after binge drinking—no hung-over, vaguely attractive frat boy passed out beside me, and no slinking out the door to do the walk of shame before he woke up and asked for my number.
    The coppery taste of blood clung to my mouth. I ran my tongue through my teeth repeatedly and swallowed, but it did little to clear my palate. I moved my head back and forth. A small whimper escaped my lips. I needed to test exactly how poorly everything operated. Wiggling my toes and fingers, I decided my body functioned, though stiff and sore.
    Better than dead . Opening my eyes did nothing to dull the throb of pain.
    A dark shape moved to my left. Startled, I sat up in bed and instantly regretted it. My brain smacked against the inside of my skull and convulsed. Clutching my head, I squeezed my eyelids shut and sank back into the soft pillow with a groan.
    “Easy.” A man’s voice splintered the silence.
    The glare of sunlight filtered through the glass and burned my retinas. I squinted and took in my host. He sat by the window. The opaque drapes billowed out behind him, surrounding his body in a white glow as a strong wind gusted into the room. With blond hair cut short, chiseled features, and broad shoulders, a present day Norse God returned my appraising gaze. Attractive, to put it mildly. Though sitting, I could tell he was tall from his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him. He sat relaxed, wearing dark jeans moulded to his body and a plain blue t-shirt with NAVY in big white block letters. His irises caught my attention, not blue like the Norse, instead, rich, chocolate brown.
    The wind carried his scent to me; rosemary with an underlying tone of sugar