Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

I snorted out a laugh.

“A werewolf gave me a haircut,” I shrugged, accepting his help, making sure to use the hand that wasn’t spit-covered.

“That’s…” Blair shook his head, and then he cracked a grin, eyes crinkling with amusement. “That tracks.”

He eyed my stitches with concern, but didn’t say anything, once again offering me mercy. I had no doubt Richard had already filled him in. And while I knew it was probably killing him not to mother hen me, he could see how badly I needed to feel normal, so stayed silent anyway.

Richard rose on his own, liquid quick, the affection in his eyes apparent as he stared at the both of us. I’d thought he’d resent our relationship, as Blair had replaced him for most of my life. But he didn’t. There was nothing but acceptance in his gaze as he offered me a little grin.

I may not have found my werewolf when I got home.

But I did find my brothers.

And that was…well…

That was pretty fucking sweet too.

Shitty haircut aside.

Black.

Everything was black. Empty, cold, excruciating—hurt-hurt-hurt.

It seared me from the inside out like wildfire injected directly in my veins, riotous and wicked, destined to leave nothing but ash and memories behind. Between the gaps in the bars on the window, pale moonlight slipped across my cell floor, creeping toward me. Extending its cool caress my way like it hadn’t forsaken me. I howled, and that only made me hurt more. Because why—why had this happened? Why had my moon mother turned her back on me? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t?—

Black, nothing.

Nothing, nothing.

There was nothing but the wet slick slide of blood as my manacles caught in my fur. Matted, clotted, as tangled as my thoughts. I was forgetting something. I knew I was—but all I could feel was the painful ache in my belly. Cavernous, gaping, open.

Free.

I wanted to be free.

Hungry. I just—I needed. I needed to hunt.

Something familiar tickled at my senses. Something bright like oranges. Like summer days. It cried, mate-mate-mate, but it was faded and faint and the moon was so strong and I?—

Ah.

What was that?

Footsteps. Yes. Above me. The thud, thunk of feet across the floor.

There were others upstairs. I could hear them. Hear as they rustled and moved. Prey. Because everything with a pulse was prey. I could taste them already—the snap crunch of bone, the bite of coppery blood. The way their flesh would feel, parting beneath my teeth and claws.

Free, I needed free.

Needed to hunt and bite and kill.

The prey was so close.

So close. When I lifted my snout I could scent them on the air. One, two, three, four—yes, yes, yes. Food. Food. Hungry, hungry, hungry?—

And then…the scent teased me once more. Summers, laughter, mate-mate-mate. I howled again, tearing at the manacles, desperate to be free. I needed, I needed, I need-need-need-need?—

The prey spoke and it was sharp and panicked, the fearscent bright enough I could smell it from here. “You have to go. Right now.”