Page 35 of Fangs & Fur

I hiss as more agony explodes through me. My spine is still bent, but I don’t have time to focus my strength on healing as I dig my claws into the beast. My fangs ache to rip its throat open, but the sight of the toxic pus leaking from its pores has me holding back. I’d be damned to ever let my lips touch this thing.

My hand within the creature’s chest snags on something tough, and I grasp onto it tightly. Finally, the beast lets out a tortured roar, and I grin in delight.

“Now I’ve got you.”

I begin to rip its heart from the chamber, but a vanilla scent has me freezing in place. I’d recognize that scent, even in the depths of hell.

Noah!

My moment I panic is my downfall as the creature thrashes from my grasp. I’m ripped from its side and thrown through the air, yet all I can see is Noah, my sweet, little mate. His scent is like smoke that swirls around the beast. It’s imbued into the creature’s body. Every cell, every tendon and muscle.

I collide with the thick trunk of a tree; my spine snaps, and I crumble to the ground. All I can do is stare up from my spot in the earth as the beast looms over me.

“What do you want with him?” I gasp, unable to move, yet desperate to fight. This thing, this creature, is connected to Noah. Beneath the rotten flesh and dilapidated bones and flesh, Noah’s essence swirls inside the beast.

I can only watch in horror as the beast dives for my neck. Its needle-like teeth snag on my skin, shredding it to bits as its claws sink into my gut, ripping my intestines loose, splattering the forest floor with my blood. When was the last time I fed? I’ve been so focused on finding what threatens Noah’s life that I've left my own needs behind. And with my body desperate for blood, my healing is stunted to a sluggish crawl.

The pain barely registers despite my agonized screams and snarls as the creature mutilates my body, painting its own skin with mine. All I can think of is Noah. My sweet human. Why on earth would this horrid beast have anything to do with him?

The light of the forest fades around us, and I grow sickly cold as I’m tossed and dragged. My spine is less than an inch from healing, but my energy saps every second that ticks by. If I don’t heal fast enough, if I bleed out on this forest floor, it could take days before I come around. By then the creature could find Noah. It would tear through my house, and wouldn’t stop until it has him.

I let out a snarl, but it’s hardly a whisper as my vision blurs and my ears ring. My consciousness ebbs.

Then I think of my text. My backup is on the way. They’ll get to Moonfell before tomorrow night. They’ll protect my mate.

I smile sadly.

If I can stay awake ‌long enough, I might be able to distract this beast for the time being.

But it’s a faint thought as my eyes roll into the back of my skull and Noah’s fragrance dances across my nose. The sounds of the beast’s snarls and grunts as it continues to tear into me begin to fade.

My mind hardly registers the cry of a furious meow and a deadly hiss. Or even the surprised yelp and squeal of the beast before I fade into the back of my consciousness.

The forest is quiet again.

The usual earthy smells have returned, and crickets chirp around me.

But there’s a pressure at the base of my skull. With a warm breath, something pinches into my skin as I'm dragged backwards.

Sticks and stones scrape and cut through my shredded shirt, but a familiar purr rumbles through my ears.

Then I hear nothing.

Chapter Eleven

Noah

The house is too quiet. I sit at the dining table, my foot tapping away beneath me as I watch the clock tick by.

The sun has long since set, and Xander still isn’t back. He said he was right behind me, but did he get lost?

I shake my head at the thought. No, of course he didn’t get lost; he’s been patrolling the forest every day since Tyler’s premonition. Since well before I came to town.

So why is it taking him so long?

My knee bounces with anxiety, and I bite the quicks of my nails, wincing as I rip open the skin and watch a little bubble of blood pool at the corner of my finger.

Something isn’t right.