Leo
End me.
Altair’s rough whisper, ringing in my ears, was the only thing I could hear. Not Cash’s chainsaw; not the witches’ cars tearing out of the clearing, cowards they were; not even my own heart, slamming so hard in my chest that I thought it might burst out and flood the whole world with my lifeblood.
My poor, broken-hearted vampire, begging my brother to end his unlife, so that he didn’t hurt me.
And then, all I saw was red.
A roar split the air, and only distantly did I realize it was my own, because I was distracted by a horrible pain tearing through my whole body at once.
It was like the shift, but also not. I didn’t immediately drop onto four slender legs, the night breeze kissing the fur on my back and the world going slightly more colorless around me.
No, the horrible sensation of muscles straining and stretching seemed to go on forever, and while fur did sprout along my arms, they . . . remained arms. At the same time, I was sure I had a muzzle rather than a mouth, because I could feel my teeth, sharp and angry and ready to tear.
And Ivan?
He wasn’t looking at Altair anymore.
More than that, he wasn’t smirking.
He actually looked mildly surprised, and took a step backward, away from me. But it was too damn late for that. He’d hurt Altair, again. After I had promised to protect him, Ivan had threatened the tiny measure of peace he’d managed to eke out.
This time, my roar was right there in the forefront of my own hearing, almost deafening in its volume.
Ivan took another step back, sick, fascinated horror filling his eyes, like he’d never seen anything like me before.
Unfortunately for him, I was going to be the last fucking thing he ever saw.
I leapt at him.
He turned, trying to dive away, but his whole body seemed to move in slow motion. I caught him easily, bowling him to the ground beneath me and wrapping my clawed fingers around his throat. His skin tore like tissue paper, and his eyes went so wide it was almost comical, but no one was laughing.
He turned into me, deciding to fight, both hands reaching for me as he sprouted his own deadly claws, trying to shove them into my chest, reaching for my heart.
It was almost laughable, how he didn’t understand.
Trying to tear out my actual heart was nothing.
He’d reached for Altair first, and that?
That was where my heart was now. Hurting Altair was so much worse than any injury he could ever do to me with his fangs and claws.
Besides, he was still moving so slowly that every choice seemed telegraphed years ahead of time.
Instead of dodging, I reached up and snatched one of his hands with my right, clenching down as hard as I could, and we both watched in fascinated horror as it crushed in my grip.
Bones breaking and grinding together, flesh ground into bloody pulp in seconds.
He screamed.
And then, he screamed again, as I planted my feet on either side of him and used my grip, left hand still on his neck and right on his bloody crushed stump of a hand, to wrench him into the air above me, like some sort of sick ballet maneuver.
Then, I continued the motion, driving him back down into the ground, head first.
He lurched upward, reaching for me blindly, his face covered in blood, and I just . . . I reached out and grabbed his neck again, wrenching it away and down, and found myself staring into his shocked eyes.
It took a dull thud at my right to make me realize that I was only holding his head in my hands. His body had just fallen limp at my side.
And still, it took a moment for that shocked consciousness to leave his eyes.
Maybe I was the monster Altair had spent centuries thinking he was, but for that moment, I was pleased.
In his last seconds, Ivan had known his death had already happened, and there was nothing he could do.
For at least a second, he got to feel the helplessness he’d inflicted on Altair over and over again, and some deep, ugly, primal part of me was satisfied in it.
There was a screech to one side of me, and I turned, dropping the severed head to the ground. Were there still witches, attacking my people? Or worse than that, were my own pack now terrified of me?
Instead, as I turned, I was hit by a tiny, girl-shaped missile.
“Oh my god, that was so cool and gross, Leo!” Evie was climbing me like a monkey, wrapping her whole body around me and squealing like she sometimes did at her books.
Like I was some kind of book hero, for .
. . for . . . “You totally just bodyslammed him and ripped his whole fucking head off!” A throat cleared behind me, and she ducked her head, flushing. “His head off. Sorry.”
I had . . .
I turned and looked at Ivan, his head and body feet apart on the ground, as Evie dropped back down to the dirt beside me.
“It was super bada—I mean, cool. It was cool.”
There were nervous titters around, and I could imagine that unlike Evie, some of the pack was worried about whether Leo was all there.
I looked down at my arms, covered in thick, wolfen fur, my fingers tipped with claws sharper and bigger than anything my wolf self had ever even seen, let alone grown.
Further down, my legs . . . well, human legs didn’t bend that way. Gross.
I was completely covered in fur, and my clothes had been shredded in the transformation.
That was how I realized I was . . . big. As Evie’s feet hit the ground and she stood next to me, I realized I was at least seven feet tall. I was used to being the tallest guy in any room, but this was ridiculous.
And half the pack, bar Evie, were staring at me in nervous not-quite-terror.
But all I could think about was what had driven me to this.
Altair.
I spun, my eyes searching until I found him, still on the ground next to my brother, both of them staring at me. There was no fear in either of them, though. Only wonder.
Viktor had let Altair go. Ivan’s hold must have broken, or neither one would be looking at me like they were. Fuck, Altair was even grinning.
My vampire pushed to his feet and came to me, not a drop of hesitation in him, his step light as always, almost a dancer’s gait, and I hated to imagine how I would walk with my weird backward-bent legs, so I simply waited.
He got to me, and instead of shying away from whatever the fuck I was, he reached up and planted his hands on either side of my face. “You killed him. You . . . I’m free. We’re free. Safe.”
He said that last like it was a magical word.
Safe.
Like he’d never imagined such a thing in his entire life.