Black Bird by Ofelia Gränd

Author:Ofelia Gränd [Gränd, Ofelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Nash was going to die. His entire body was on fire. He had to either fuck or run…or fight, but there was no one to fight, and, apparently, no one to fuck, so…

As carefully as he could, he slid out of bed, not wanting to wake Arlo again. The rubber band around his heart was stretching, causing a stinging pain in his chest. His claws pushed through his fingers and he clamped his jaws shut not to make a sound. Clumsily he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them, boxers, and T-shirt followed, and he stood naked in Arlo’s bedroom.

He didn’t have much time, the sun would rise soon. Running out here in beast form wasn’t a good idea at all, but Nash had to.

The fields went on and on, and there were only small groves of trees that could function as cover. People would already be on the move, the week was about to begin, and living outside of town meant commuting. Nash would hear the cars before they could see him, but where did you hide a werewolf on an open field?

He crept out of Arlo’s cottage and let the change wash over him. The searing bite as the bones slid into place had him snarling, but he did so as quietly as he could. Then he set off.

The chilly air caressed his skin, the ground damp against his padded feet, and Nash searched for the moon, but it was hidden behind clouds. Disappointment swam in his mind.

He bolted across the field to Gilbert’s, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw Arlo’s car parked next to Ellis’ in the yard. Gil must’ve gone back to fetch it. Nash’s chest flooded with gratitude. He didn’t think Gilbert was watching him, but just in case he waved before turning in the direction of the woods where the man had held a knife to Arlo. The beast wanted to smell around.

His lungs were burning as he pushed himself faster and faster. His muscles protested at the strain he put on them, but the beast urged him on.

Tearing through the woods, it wasn’t hard to find the spot where Nash had killed the man. The body was gone, and he assumed it was Gil’s doing. He’d have to thank him come evening. Sorting through the scents, he picked up on Gilbert, Arlo, the man, but there were more.

Nash tried again—there shouldn’t be more, there hadn’t been anyone in the woods when they’d been there, had there? He walked around, followed a trail in the opposite direction from where the man and Arlo had come. He couldn’t sort out the scents. There were two, but he couldn’t…he didn’t think he’d ever come across them before.

Walking back, he saw something shining in the dark. The knife. Bending down to pick it up, he noticed the serrated blade was covered in some sort of liquid—not his blood. He picked it up by the handle and smelled it. His eyes teared up, and pain spread in his nose.

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