Chapter 26

My wolf stumbled as her foot caught on a sharp shard of seashell inches away from the vacationing family. “Oh!” exclaimed the wife, turning toward the sound. “Honey, I think...!”

As she spoke, she jerked away from my sudden presence and I certainly couldn’t blame her for retreating. I must have been a terrifying sight with spittle oozing wetly out of the corners of my mouth while a rumble of a growl rose up out of my chest.

Meanwhile, a red haze of bloodlust dimmed my vision, but I could still make out a terrified scuffling as the one-bodies attempted to flee. They weren’t fast enough, though. No, these weak two-leggers would never be able to outrun a wolf.

Vainly, I struggled against the compulsion that continued to barrel me forward. Because this wasn’t my wolf in charge. This wasn’t the meek animal who obeyed commands to cease and desist despite her instinctive yearning to lap up blood and gnaw on corpses.

Instead, a quick survey of my inner landscape turned up the fact that my lupine half was currently quiescent, still present but unable to influence the muscles and tendons pulling us forward across the beach. Our shared body was being compelled from the outside in, moved like a puppet by somebody else.

Stormwinder, I guessed. Grey had suggested that he was acting on the older male’s orders, mentioning that the Tribunal member had wanted me to do much more than to lose a few conscious hours and scare a few sheep.

Not that the identity of the shifter behind my current behavior really mattered. The relevant point was finding a way to stop this travesty before I tore apart vacationers and signed my own death warrant in the process.

Still, as I strained and fought against the external force moving my muscles, I couldn’t help thinking that Stormwinder was more clever than I’d initially thought. The older male had been playing a long game for the last couple of weeks and no one would be able to argue with the evidence now. Even I had been halfway convinced that my wolf was responsible for the problems rising up around Wolf Landing in the recent past. So when I broke cover here in a very public setting, murdering humans in a way that would make the national news, no one would be able to argue with the results.

Instead, I’d be executed and Wolf Landing would disappear without a trace. The bloodlings would be split up, used and abused by pack leaders who considered their new lackeys a means to an end rather than scared children in need of a loving home.

And Hunter? Would my mate resign himself to the inevitable and drag his bloodling body back to Stormwinder with tail between his legs, seeking the only remaining place where he could possibly belong?

Not happening, I thought grimly. I’d made no headway fighting against the compulsion directly, though, so I ignored my outer body for the moment and focused on my inner world instead.

My wolf was still frozen in place, awake but unmoving...which was fine since I intended to force her into a retreat she wouldn’t have wanted to consider. My proposed action felt like a betrayal, but it was the best solution I’d been able to come up with on such short notice. So, pressing frozen fingers beneath soggy fur, I hefted at the animal’s dead weight. She flopped over a single turn then continued to lie still.

Outside, I could hear screams of terror interspersed with splashing water. But I couldn’t afford to take my attention away from the task at hand for long enough to look. Instead, I put my back into the effort and rolled the wolf over again and again and again, inching ever closer to my goal.

I hesitated as we neared the cliff separating higher brain functioning from the intuitive realm of the lower body. Was I really willing to go through with an action that might do more harm than good? And would sending my wolf tumbling down into the depths actually manage to break Stormwinder’s iron grip over our outer body?

Unfortunately, I was well aware that this divide was more than merely metaphorical. I remembered all too well what it had felt like to be pushed deep into the bowels of our shared body. I remembered the terror of the void, the way I’d nearly lost myself in the sea of darkness before finally dragging my aching muscles up the steep slope to regain the helm at long last.

My wolf, on the other hand, made descent and ascent look easy. She’d leapt over the divide countless times, slinking purposefully down my spine to take up residence beyond the realm of conscious thought. I had to hope she’d be able to make this ascent again once the danger was past.

Still...I twitched away from the notion of flipping a paralyzed wolf over the edge while she was unable to twist and break her fall. What would happen if her spine splintered, her head cracked?

Selfishly, I also had to ask whether I’d ever be able to exit our current furry form without our partnership intact. And, once human, would I be able to call back upon my inner wolf?

A decade or a year ago, the choice would have been easy. A much younger me had blithely wished her wolf away, wanting to become the one-body daughter our mother so sorely craved. A slightly older incarnation of the same person had resented the weak lupine half who dragged us down every time we attempted to stand up against stronger pack leaders. At either of those past moments, I would have gladly parted from my wolf forever.

But over the last few months, my inner beast and I had grown in tandem, our previously disparate viewpoints melding into a cohesive whole. Now, as I considered tossing her out of my life completely, I found it inconceivable to imagine carrying on without this companion who I’d only recently come to realize was a true friend.

So I continued to ignore the screams of terror outside our shared body while I hesitated there on the ledge between conscious and subconscious realities. And in the end, as so many times before, it was the wolf who moved us forward.

Push me, she demanded, her words a mere breath but decisive nonetheless. She’d fought against Stormwinder’s compulsion until there was only a husk of her original self remaining. And now she bade me toss that remnant down into the depths to sink or swim under her own volition.

All to save three one-bodies who we’d never met and would likely never see again.

For our pack, she admonished.

Outside, screams turned into shrieks. One way or another, the end was near and neither of us would be able to live with ourselves if I woke to blood on my teeth.

So, closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Then, I pushed.