My nails have extended into pointed claws, curving slightly from my fingertips.
“Oh, my God?” I say, staring at them.
I’m shifting.
I can feel my wolf as she jealously roars within me.
Damien’s head whips up; his eyes lock on mine.
“Luna?” he growls, pushing away from the woman.
She turns, confusion and irritation flashing across her beautiful face as she spots me. “Who’s that?” she demands, straightening in all her naked glory.
I should run.
Every instinct screams at me to flee. But all I want to do right now is tear that female’s face off while dancing triumphantly because my wolf is coming out.
“What are you doing here?” Damien demands, stalking toward me with rage rolling off him in waves. “Spying on me now?”
The accusation breaks through my murderous vision. “I wasn’t. I was just walking—”
“In this exact part of the forest?” His lips curl in disbelief. “Bullshit.”
The female appears at his side, her arm sliding possessively through his. “Damien, is this her?” Her gaze rakes over me, assessing.
“She’s nobody,” he says flatly. “Just the stray Hudson brought home.”
The words land like a physical punch to the gut.
Nobody.
Of course, that’s all I am to him.
Humiliation burns through every cell. “I heard voices,” I say, hating how defensive I sound. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“And when you did know, you decided to stay and watch?” Damien’s voice drips with contempt.
The woman’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, I see,” she says, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.
“You don’t see shit,” I snap, the words out before I can stop them.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“Ignore her, Cassie,” Damien says, his eyes never leaving my face. “She’s not worth your time.”
Not worth his time.
Not worth anyone’s time. The familiar refrain from the Institute echoes in my head, reinforced by his cutting words. But it ignites something fierce and hot in my chest instead of making me shrink this time.
“Fuck you, Damien,” I hiss, and the sound is different—deeper, with a rumbling quality that startles me.
I glance down at my hands again, seeing the small claws still extended. I feel my shift coming on, my vision changing slightly.
Damien’s expression shifts, hardening as something like recognition flickers across his face. “Go,” he tells me, his voice low and commanding. “Now.”
I turn and run, crashing through the underbrush with none of my earlier stealth. Branches whip at my face and arms, but I barely feel them. All I can focus on is the burning sensation in my hands, the strange tightness in my chest, and the inexplicable jealousy still coursing through my veins.
Why do I care?
