Page 43 of Primal Surrender


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The darkness reached me before I could move, wrapping around my throat like a garrote. I clawed at it desperately, fingers passing through a shadow that was solid enough to choke the lifefrom me. Spots danced across my vision, lungs burning for air that wouldn’t come.

“I’m going to enjoy watching the light go out in your eyes,” Smokey whispered, drawing closer. “Slowly. So you feel every second.”

I was going to die here, in the middle of nowhere, without ever seeing Kronos again. I’d never get to tell him what I’d planned…tonight…

A roar split the night—primal, ancient, furious. Something massive crashed through the trees, too fast to track. One moment Smokey was standing over me—the next he was flying backward, slammed into a tree trunk with bone-crushing force.

The shadows around my neck dissolved, and I collapsed, gasping for precious air. Through watering eyes, I saw Kronos silhouetted against the moonlight. Claws extended from his fingers, his teeth too sharp in his mouth, eyes blazing with monstrous rage.

Smokey recovered quickly, darkness gathered around him like armor. “You’re too late, wolf. He’s already half dead.”

“You’ll be all dead,” Kronos growled, the words barely human, “if you’ve touched him again.”

They collided in a blur of motion too fast to follow—light and darkness, predator and shadow. Trees shuddered under the impact of bodies thrown with inhuman force. The ground trembled. Darkness exploded in tendrils, only to be shredded by claws that gleamed like silver in the moonlight.

I tried to push myself up,to help somehow, but my body refused to cooperate. The best I could manage was to drag myself toward a fallen log, something to put at my back. From this relative safety, I watched Kronos tear through Smokey’s defenses with ruthless efficiency.

“You can’t kill shadow,” Smokey taunted, even as Kronos’s claws shredded another tendril of darkness.

When Kronos finally pinned Smokey against an ancient oak, claws pressed to his throat, I thought it was over. Darkness bubbled from the shadow-man’s mouth, a last desperate attack. It engulfed Kronos’s head, trying to suffocate him as it had me.

“Kronos!” I shouted, the sound tearing painfully from my abused throat.

Something in my voice must have reached him, because he stilled for a split second. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up and tore the darkness away like it was nothing more than cobwebs. Smokey’s eyes widened in genuine fear.

“Impossible,” he whispered.

Kronos smiled. “I’ve been hunting your kind for years.” His voice was almost conversational, which somehow made it more terrifying. “Did you really think a little shadow would stop me?”

The sound of sirens cut through the night, red and blue lights flashing through the trees. Smokey’s head whipped toward them, sudden panic replacing his usual cold confidence.

“Police?” He looked genuinely confused. “How—”

“I called them before I came for you,” Kronos said, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Right after I got a very interesting text from Alex. They should be arresting the Madam and her friend right about now.”

Smokey thrashed in his grip, darkness flaring in one last attempt at escape. Kronos casually slammed him back against the tree, hard enough that I heard something crack. The shadow-man went limp, darkness receding until he looked almost human—just a thin, pale man in expensive clothes, unconscious but still breathing.

Only then did Kronos turn to me, eyes still glowing with predatory light. He crossed the clearing in three strides, dropping to his knees beside me. His hands—human again, claws retracted—hovered over my injuries, unsure where it was safe to touch.

“Alex,” he breathed, voice rough with emotion. “What did they do to you?”

I tried to smile, though I suspected it came out as more of a grimace through the blood. “You should see the other guys.”

His laugh was shaky, relief mixed with lingering fear. “I did. You took down three shadow wolves on your own.” His fingers gently brushed my hair back from my forehead, careful to avoid the worst bruises.

“I’m just as surprised as you,” I managed before a coughing fit doubled me over. When I could breathe again, I found myself cradled against his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear. “Did my message really go through?”

“Trunk.Madam. Help,” he quoted. “Not your most eloquent message, but it got the point across.” His arms tightened carefully around me. “I’ve been tracking you since you disappeared. Found your groceries scattered on the sidewalk. The butcher saw what happened.”

“The dinner,” I remembered suddenly, absurdly disappointed. “I was going to cook for you.”

His smile was soft. “We’ll have plenty of other dinners.” His hand cupped my face with infinite tenderness. “Let’s focus on getting you patched up first.”

The sound of police and paramedics crashing through the underbrush grew louder. Voices called out, flashlight beams cutting through the darkness as they approached our position.

“Over here,” Kronos called, not taking his eyes off me. His hand remained steady against my face, thumb gently brushing my cheekbone where it wasn’t bruised.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, the words coming out raspy through my damaged throat.