He growled again, then tilted his head to the side, reminding her of the wolves that had saved her from Merle and Gabe. Her gaze jumped back to the diamond shape on Lance’s forehead.
“It was you, wasn’t it? All of you. You were the ones who ran Merle and Gabe off.”
Duncan had managed to break the chains that held his legs, but the neck chains on both of the Thorne men still remained strong.
“Grant, I know you remember me. Think. It’s me, Christy. I’m your mate.” If he didn’t remember her, she was about to die.
Grant’s growl was low and mean, without an ounce of mercy in it. He crept closer.
It was all or nothing. She had to trust that he was still inside the huge animal. Reaching out, she closed her eyes and offered him her hand.
When the pain of his jaws clamping down on her didn’t come, she dared to open her eyes. She widened them a second before he leapt and knocked her flat to the floor.
She wanted to cry, her vision clouded with unshed tears. Terror froze her body, making her too terrified to try and fight him. He held her down and his paws were a crushing weight on her chest. Saliva dripped from his mouth to slide down the side of her neck. Gleaming amber eyes glared at her as he opened his mouth, preparing to drive his awful fangs deep into her flesh.
Unable to watch the man she loved tear out her throat, she closed her eyes again. “It’s okay, Grant. I forgive you.”
* * * *
A war raged inside Grant’s mind. He fought against the swirl of images, trying to sort out which ones he trusted. This shift was different than any other one. When he changed, he was always able to access his human mind, his thoughts, his memories. But the power emanating from the moon sent crazy, wild ideas to him. Ideas that had nothing to do with his humanity. It urged him to take, to kill, to feed.
The pulse of her blood in her neck beckoned to him. He could already taste the first squirt of warm liquid bursting into his mouth, then running down his throat. She would taste so good, so alive as her body twitched underneath his.
And then she’d spoken. The other part of him, the side of him that was shouting for him to stop, begging his wolf to relent, tried to understand the words. He cocked his head to the side and clamped his jaws shut.
“I love you, Grant.”
Her voice was the meekest of whispers, and yet the words pounded into him with the force of a wrecking ball. He recognized the word love and its power swept over him.
No! Stop!
Somewhere deep inside him, his humanity fought back, demanding that his wolf submit. The man who ached for his woman was more powerful than any animal ever could be.
I love her.
That thought was all he needed to force the beast back into its cage. He shifted, pushing his wolf back into submission. She kept her eyes closed, and he would’ve sworn she wasn’t aware of the change. At least not until he moved his hands to rest at the side of her head.
She opened her eyes and the tears he saw in them broke his heart. He’d come so close, too close, to killing the only woman he would ever love. And she’d stopped him with a whisper.
“Christy.” As though the transformation still had its hold on him, he struggled to get the words out. “I’m so sorry.”
Her hard breaths mellowed and she brought her palms up to cup his face. “Don’t be. You didn’t hurt me.” She smiled and the sweetness of it soothed his heart, bringing the broken pieces back together. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
He fell away from her. “It’s not over. The moon’s still raging in me. Please, Christy, go before I do what my body aches for.”
“He’s right, babe. Please. Seeing you only makes it harder.”
Lance and Duncan had reversed their transformations, too, but the agony he felt inside shone all too familiar on their faces. Their anguish to have her, their overwhelming obsession to possess her was tearing them apart.
She sat up, then leaned against the wall. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Christy, go,” he begged.
Her face worked as the battle inside her came to the surface. “I’m not a werewolf, but what I’m feeling…?” She shook her head several times, denying any power to do anything other than what the moon insisted. “No, I can’t leave. It’s not possible now.”
“Please.” It was all he could say, and even then, the word came out so strangled that he didn’t recognize his own voice. Whether he was pleading for her to go or for her to give into the urges, he couldn’t have said any longer. He was past the point of rational thought.
“I have to have you.” She reached up and tore her dress open, tearing it from the top down until it lay like a vest on her. Her sudden strength had come from the amber moon’s effect on her.