If they did as they were told, then they were rewarded with the drugs they needed. If not—they were denied.
They fought like they had nothing to lose because they did not.
A gray, ratty-looking one leaped at him from the left as an equally dirty white one made for his neck from the right side of the wolf. He pivoted, avoiding the direct hit to the neck while his wolf snarled.
Life became nothing more than avoiding their claws and mouths until he could end their lives. Rex’s vision narrowed, his breathing picked up. Yes, he loved this.
A roar exploded from his mouth, more wolf than man. His heart beat hard against his rib cage. He wasn’t going to be able to prevent the shift for too much longer. His wolf was in a rage.
The hair on his skin stood at attention as he rolled to his left. Grabbing the neck of the snarling gray wolf, he twisted until he heard the requisite snap, which told him the creature was dead. Once upon a time it would have bothered him to do such a thing but no longer. If someone wanted him dead, he would kill them to protect himself.
Rex snarled, he could feel his own teeth elongating in his mouth. He could fight the change, which would hurt like hell, or he could let it happen and avoid the pain. His decision was made for him as the wolf he wrestled managed to chomp down on his shoulder.
Even through his shirt, it hurt like hell. He howled to the sky, sounding more like a wolf than a man. No way was he getting bitten again. Calling the shift onto himself, the warm, white light moved him into his wolf body even as he struggled against the wolf holding his shoulder now.
In two seconds, he was no longer Rex the man but was now Rex the wolf. He smiled, showing the other creature his canine teeth. He wasn’t going to play anymore. Any made wolf that came near him was dead.
Using his hind legs, he surged forward, throwing the other wolf off him at the same time. The smaller male whimpered. Rex snarled. It was too late for sorry. Compassion would get him killed. The made wolves knew nothing of kindness. He wouldn’t be teaching them now.
He lunged forward, catching the wolf’s throat in his teeth. He tore until he could taste the blood of his enemy in his mouth. The copper life force sank into his senses, telling him he’d achieved his goal. This wolf was dead. Three down. There were twelve more to go.
He growled, jumping to his feet. He could smell them and now that he’d tasted one’s blood, his animal wanted more. They were the enemy and they threatened his mate by existing. It was Rex’s duty to make sure they were stopped. If they died, they could do no harm to either Elizabeth or his pack.
Turning to the left, he stalked into the woods, his ears lying flat against his head. His fur rose on his back. If the prey wouldn’t come to him, he would go to the prey.
They smelled sick, like rotten flesh that still somehow lived. It had been bad with his extreme sense of smell when he’d walked on two feet. Now? It was downright repulsive and he gagged. Nature had not made these beings. His father had. The thought of the patriarch of his family made Rex’s blood boil.
Pack was sacred. It was everything. Those without pack held no honor. His father had led them, guided them, and helped them determine their futures. And then he’d betrayed them in the worst possible way. He’d taken everything he’d ever taught them to believe in and shown them it had all been a lie.
Well, Rex wouldn’t live like that. His wolf still held honor even if the man had no soul. He would help to clean up his father’s mess.
Starting with the three wolves that backed up as he approached.
His wolf smiled. Be afraid of me. I am the reaper, come to give you your end.
He sprang forward, his mouth ripping as his claws took care of the rest. Howls filled his ears but he did not focus on them. The world was a haze, a red blur of madness he needed to conquer. He’d been in battles before—a lot of them lately—and none of them had affected him like this. Taking down these made wolves was all that existed in the universe.
Mate.
Yes, his mate. He blinked as he tore out another throat before moving on to the next faceless wolf. Wolves could go crazy if the mating ritual was not completed. Rex didn’t even know what it entailed, but he’d been with Elizabeth for over a day, and each minute he left her unclaimed made him feel more and more like the monster he’d always suspected lurked beneath his civilized surface.
He howled in triumph as another made wolf fell. How many had he taken down? He wasn’t even sure. They could keep coming for all he cared. He would triumph. He would kill them all.
The joined attack of the next two wolves surprised him. They’d been so completely predictable up until that point. Oh well, it was no matter. One, two, ten—he could beat them all.