Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)(34)

He spun and lunged at Roman’s front paw, caught it in a blur, and snapped the bone with a hard bite. The yelp of pain echoed through the clearing, and with the sound came a tornado. That’s all Wolf could think to describe it. The snow around them shot straight up into the sky, creating a wall of white, and thick, black power pulsed against Wolf’s skin. It made him sick to his stomach.

Beside him, Asher and Roman froze, their attention on the dark shadow that was walking slowly through the wall of snow, hands out.

It was the woman from the store, the dark-haired one in the old truck. The familiar one. With every step of her approach, the sick feeling in Gentry’s gut grew until his legs buckled under him. His body was on fire, and it wasn’t just him. Asher and Roman were in the snow, writhing.

“Change back!” the woman screamed, her voice crackling with the power of the wind, but her lips hadn’t moved.

Agony ripped through Gentry, and he closed his eyes against the black magic forcing his Change into his human skin. Back to Logic.

Teeth bared, Asher was dragging his breaking body toward her by his front paws.

“Uh uuuh,” she sang softly, shaking her head as she took a step back.

Asher, Asher, Asher. Change back. The whispered words hadn’t come from her lips, but were bouncing around in Gentry’s head.

The last of the Change blasted through Gentry’s body, and he winced away from the view of Asher breaking slowly, bones snapping one at a time like dry twigs, and blood pooling in the snow beneath his body.

“Give in,” Roman yelled, completely human. “Asher!”

Asher imploded into his human self, and the snow wall fell to the ground around them.

Every cell in Gentry’s body was on fire, and he retched in the snow. He clenched his fists before he slammed them to the ground and tried to breathe through the agony. “Who are you?” Gentry choked out.

“Can’t you feel it?” Roman asked from beside him. He was on his hands and knees, arm wrapped around his stomach, body trembling, eyes bright gold like his wolf wasn’t sleeping yet. He wore a full beard now and looked like a fucking bodybuilder. Roman was almost unrecognizable compared to the boy Gentry had known. “She’s a witch.”

“You’re welcome,” the woman barked out, eyes flashing with anger.

“For what?” Asher growled out.

“Look at you! Brothers, bleeding each other like animals.”

“We are animals.”

“Bullshit! That’s bullshit. Your father would be ashamed if he saw what you’d just done. You were going to kill each other!”

Asher tossed Roman a frown, but didn’t even bother to look at Gentry. “You knew our father?”

Pain washed across the woman’s face, and she stared off into the woods for a few moments before she answered. “I loved your father.” Her lip trembled, and her eyebrows lifted. “We weren’t allowed, for obvious reasons, but he was mine, and I was his. Losing him was the worst day of my life. But seeing you three, looking so much like him, going to war out here is a close second.”

“My wolf looks nothing like that asshole,” Asher ground out, his chin tucked to his chest as he glared up at the woman from his knees.

“Not your wolf, Asher Striker. Your eyes. You have his fire. He was always scared for you because of it. And you,” she said, arcing her gaze to Roman. “You have his build. Height, arms, hands, all the same. And it doesn’t matter how thick you grow that beard, boy. You can’t hide his face. He marked you up better than the rest. But you,” she murmured, blinking slowly and giving her attention to Gentry. “You’re the one he passed his wolf to. Can you feel him separately I wonder? Hmm, Gentry? Does he feel like a different creature living inside of your body? Your father struggled with the same, and your wolf is the spitting image of his. Get up, monsters.”

Gentry waited for the tendrils of black magic to curdle his stomach again, but she wasn’t using her power anymore. And when he studied her closer, the woman was swaying slightly on her feet. A quick glance at Asher, who was closest to her, and he had his narrowed eyes on her shaking hands.

A witch she may be, but all-powerful she was not. She’d drained herself. They could kill her now with a single bite. She wasn’t a wolf, probably wouldn’t survive it, but Gentry had a hundred questions rattling around in his mind, so he played along and stood slowly. Every muscle in his body was twitching like he’d been electrocuted, but he splayed his legs and kept his balance.

“What’s your name?” he gritted out.

“Odine.”

“Odine what?” Roman asked.