Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters, #1)(32)

“Shift.”

“What…?”

“You’re a shifter. Shift.”

Fuck this guy. Fuck him right to hell. One without a library.

I spat my words out between gritted teeth. “Remember how I told you it was my first shift? I can’t change on command yet. Rules of the Shadow Beast.”

Should I really be reminding you of this, asshole?

Energy slammed into me, locking my body in a vise, and as my spine arched, my wolf howled and tore her way out of my body. Within seconds, I was no longer on two legs, but back in my red and white four-legged form, limbs shaking from the rapid change.

My brain merged fast into the wolf, growls rumbling in our chest as we stalked forward toward him.

Shadow was unconcerned. “Do you have the double vision?”

Our growls increased. Hackles up. Fangs showing.

The dark smoke wrapped around Shadow, who was once again watching me like I was the only being in existence. “You’re not seeing it now.”

It wasn’t a question.

With a wave of his hands, he forced the shift on me again, and my wolf’s howl turned into a scream as I changed back to human. It took a terrible toll on our bodies to change so rapidly, so it was no surprise that I ended up a naked, huffing, near sobbing mess on the floor.

Shadow didn’t give me another look, stalking away and disappearing back through the veil.

Silent sobs wracked me as I fought the fatigue and pain… and the loneliness of facing these trials alone. Would I never get a break? Was it too much to ask that every fucking day not be a hugely painful experience?

When my dad had first died—was murdered, let’s not sugarcoat it—I’d cried a lot. Over his loss, the loss of my friends, and especially the loss of our place in the pack. My mom had always been a bit of a distant parent, so I didn’t stress on her too much, but even her complete retreat from reality had hurt. It just had all fucking hurt.

Eventually, I’d stopped crying and learned to hide my pain inside, but today, I couldn’t seem to find my fortitude.

Five minutes. I would give myself five minutes to fall apart and then I’d get my shit together.

Shadow hadn’t returned by the time I’d pulled myself to my feet, dusted my naked butt off, and retrieved the partly torn shirt, shrugging it on. I wasn’t as alone as I thought, though, the dark smoke making itself known. Ignoring it at first, I started to explore the library-slash-beast-lair.

“Is this a magic space?” I eventually asked the smoky mist trailing me. Shadow’s shadow thing was apparently my keeper while its master was gone. “The shelves just keep going on and on.”

When I couldn’t find an end in sight, I gave up and instead moved toward a shelf. My eyes bugged out when I saw A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin, Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, and a multitude of Terry Pratchett stories lined up. There were many more fantasy greats and classic stories in this section, and even though I was all about the hidden gems of the indie author world these days, my heart still fluttered over an amazing fantasy classic.

Only fantasy, though.

If someone mentioned Emily Bront? to me even once, I’d run away screaming.

With reluctance, I left those shelves and made the very long trek back to the fireplace and those cozy couches. No doubt Shadow would return to kill me sooner or later, so it was probably best to try to get some rest before my murder.

Choosing the largest couch near the fire, I closed my eyes and forced my mind to settle. I knew my reaction to this mess was odd. Most people would be screaming, rocking in a corner, or bawling their eyes out. But in all truth, after many years on edge, waiting for the moment someone took their torment of me too far and I was killed, I’d grown numb to panic and fear.

Exhaustion from the day’s events washed over me and I sank deeper into the plush velvet of the sofa. Shadow Bastard might have been a right old bastard, but he had solid taste in housewares.

As the fuzziness of sleep and exhaustion pressed darkness into my mind, the last thought I had was if I’d ever wake up again.





18

Ididn’t dream. I was almost certain I didn’t even move because when I jerked myself awake, disoriented as fuck, half my body was numb. Tingles started immediately as the blood flowed through my numb extremities, shifter healing fixing up whatever I’d broken during my sleep-like-the-dead episode.

Looking around, I wasn’t surprised to find myself in the exact same position I’d been in before.

On the couch. Fire burning… with the same-sized flames. How fucking long had I been asleep? Five seconds…

This place was whack.

“Shadow!” I shouted, my throat croaky. Clearing it, I tried again. “Shifters die without food and water.”

Getting to my feet, I shook off the last bit of sleep drowsiness, stretching so tall, my vagina was hanging out the bottom of the torn shirt. I eyeballed the smoke shadow that had roused with me—it was drifting a little too close for my liking. “Go near my naked shit and I will figure out how to hoover your fucking ass into the next world.”

I’d seen Ghostbusters. I could handle this demon shit.

Maybe it understood me, or maybe it was a coincidence, but the smoke backed up to a respectable distance. Looking around, I wondered if Shadow had pissed off and left me to live out the rest of my days here in fantasy land, with a cozy magic fire and never-ending bookshelves. Just needed to install a hot chocolate and juice kiosk, burger land, and a bar.