3. Tálstrom
A tsunami of rage crashes through me, burning away the toxins flooding my bloodstream. Free from my lethargy, I tear from Simon’s body, pushing him to the back of our consciousness as I take control. Our change is instant, so soundless and seamless that the prey in white coats have no idea what is coming for them.
My claws shred the leather straps restraining me, and I silently move onto my four paws and stand, feeling my strength surge through my muscles. The steel table I’m crouched on groans underneath my shifting weight as I ready to pounce on the nearest meat-bag, their back unshielded and vulnerable. As I leap, I kick the table from underneath me, and it goes crashing to the floor, the boom echoing through the room. I land on my prey; panicked, pained screams accompany my claws rending through their flesh. I lean down and enclose their neck in my jaws, crushing the bones between my teeth. I drop the limp form to the floor, uncaring if they still live or are slowly suffocating to death as I eye the figures standing frozen around the two blood-soaked tables.
The scent of fresh blood riles my blood lust, but the shifters bleeding out are not my targets. My gaze lands on the one who caught Simon’s attention, and I stare at him as I step over the body I’ve already claimed. This one is my next target, and although it’s not how I usually hunt, I look forward to tearing this one’s throat out and devouring his flesh for the crimes he’s committed against me and my kind.
I snarl silently, my lips curling away from my fangs as I deliberately place one paw on the floor, then another. Each step I take is methodical and filled with menace and oncoming death.
“FUCK! Someone sedate that fucking shifter before he kills us all!” my prey screams, shoving one of his minions at me in his attempt to escape. I bat the minion to one side, my claws ripping through cloth and skin alike, but I ignore the wailing creature as I deliberately follow my quarry. If they enjoy torture and torment so much, I’ll give them exactly that. I’m not some dumb wild lion that they can poke without consequences.
No. I’m so much more than that.
The lighting suddenly changes, going from bright white to flashing red. The entire room now looks as though it’s been drenched in blood, instead of only the area around the captive shifters. A siren blares, the pitch and volume piercing my eardrums, spearing bolts of agony through my brain. I snarl, coiling my muscles in preparation for my leap, but a sharp sting in my rump distracts me.
I twist at the pain only to see a dart sticking out from my hindquarters. I bat at it frantically and rumble a growl of disgust and panic that I let someone sneak up behind me. I’m surrounded by unknown enemies and should know better than to leave myself open to attack!
As the contents of the pressure syringe make its way through my bloodstream, dulling my senses and making me drowsy, I step back and let Simon take control once more. These drugs are meant for me, not him, which means he’ll be better able to protect us all.
Before I relinquish control, however, I turn and look at the man in the white coat once more. I glare, promising him death and destruction under my claws, until I can no longer stay awake. I slip back into the darkness, Simon’s promise echoing in my head:
“I’ll protect these shifters and their bonds, even if it kills me.”