I tried to avoid her, but it was like dodging someone in a martial arts movie set on ten times the normal speed. Snarling, I slashed my teeth at her, trying to warn her back. But after a few evasive moves, her foot slammed into my front legs, taking them out from under me. I rolled away, but she dove onto my back, grabbing my front leg and wrenching it backwards until it snapped. I roared in pain, but before I could tear myself free, Viktor landed on my exposed belly. Pinning me front legs to my body with the powerful strength of his legs, he wrapped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze.
I knew if I screamed for Alarick, he’d leave whoever he was fighting and come running. But that might leave him vulnerable to attack. And if it didn’t, he’d rip of Viktor’s head off when he saw him choking me.
I braced my hind legs against him and tried to focus past the pain and panic to my human side. My only chance was to shift as quickly as I could and hope they would spare me if I showed myself. I couldn’t be sure anymore—I had turned my back on them and chosen the wolves. But I’d run out of other options. Every second, I could feel Vickor’s hands squeezing tighter, choking the life from me.
I desperately grasped at my human form, praying it wasn’t too late, as blackness overtook my vision.
Chapter Twenty
I stared up into Viktor’s beautiful eyes, now cold and inhuman, for one terrible moment. A moment in which I thought I’d made a terrible mistake, giving up the only advantage I had. Or that I hadn’t had the strength to shift into human at all. But then his fingers relaxed, and he blinked at me in bewilderment.
“Timberlyn?”
“Yes, you jerk,” I said, so relieved I began to shake uncontrollably. “Did it never occur to you that werewolves aren’t just animals—we’re people, too?”
“You need to get out of here,” Svana said. “Mr. Ravenwood is going to kill all these wolves. Why are you in wolf form?”
“I’m not anymore,” I rasped, staring up at Viktor, a weird current passing between us. He was, and would always be, my maker. I couldn’t shake that connection just because I’d chosen to leave the vampires behind. And he couldn’t shake it by refusing to say goodbye or refusing to accept my choice.
“Of all the times I’ve pictured us in this position, none of them were quite like this,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips, his thumbs gently caressing my throat where he’d been choking me just seconds before. The pleasure of our familiar position, one we’d taken so many times as we exchanged blood, was stored in my muscle memory, and his touch awakened it all over again.
“Get off,” I said, my face heating as I shoved at his chest with my good arm.
The bastard had the nerve to grin down at me.
“Hey, asshole,” a gruff voice growled behind Viktor. “Want to tell me why you’re on top of my naked girlfriend with your hands around her throat?”
“Not really,” Viktor said, hopping up from me and holding out a hand to help me up. He flashed Alarick a grin, but there was a challenge in his eyes.
“Didn’t I tell you that if I ever saw you touching my mate, I’d rip your fucking head off?” Alarick snarled, his muscles bulging under his skin, making him look like he wouldn’t have to be in wolf form to make good on his threat.
“I didn’t hear her complaining,” Viktor shot back.
“You have about ten seconds to disappear before I dispose of you like the parasite you are,” Alarick said. “And that’s out of respect for my mate and her misguided fondness for you. Not because I respect you, you sniveling little leech.”
“Stop,” I said, clambering to my feet with Viktor’s help. “I’m your mate, Alarick. Viktor is my maker.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Alarick growled. “Because it better not mean the same thing that mate means to a werewolf.”
“Let’s just say it’s not the first time we’ve been in that position,” Viktor said.
Alarick lunged at him, his hands closing around Viktor’s neck. A flash of panic darted through me, and I wedged myself between them, the strangling hold of Alarick’s hands seeming to grip my throat as well as Viktor’s.
“Stop,” I screamed, shoving at the brick wall of his chest. He didn’t budge. His eyes stayed locked on Viktor, the veins along his forearms bulging as his grip crushed Viktor’s windpipe.
“Stay out of this one,” Alarick growled, never even glancing my way.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped.
His gaze flew to me. “What?”
“I have to protect him,” I blurted, not knowing where the words came from but knowing they were true. “Don’t hurt him, or I’ll hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m her maker,” Viktor gritted out. “We’re bonded.”
“Well, unbond yourself,” Alarick barked.
“He can’t,” I said, shoving him again, trying not to jostle the arm Svana had snapped when I was in wolf form. “Let him go.”
Alarick released Viktor, shoving him backwards so hard Viktor went tumbling. I sucked in a breath, so relieved I thought I’d collapse.
“You’re bonded to him?” Alarick demanded, wheeling on me.
“What’s your deal with him?” I asked, starting to throw my hands up before pain rocketed up my arm, stopping me. I gasped, cradling my injured arm in my other one.
“Are you okay?” Alarick asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Now, tell
