To Catch a Werewolf: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Protectors Quick Bites Book 4) by Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight

Author:Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight [Blackwood, Keira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paramour Press
Published: 2019-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Sebastian

Fast and foreign, yet remarkably familiar, the werewolf was stronger than I was in my human form. Perhaps stronger than my wolf. Before Gemma had stabbed the beast, I’d thought I was going to have to shift.

Its claws were unnaturally long, more like a raptor’s than a wolf’s. And they stung when they cut—they stung like hell. Stranger than the claws was the scent. It was distinctly wolf, yet not. None of the suspects had carried anything close to that scent in human form.

But none of that mattered in the heat of the moment, when the beast threw Gemma. Nothing else mattered when she was in danger.

I stumbled to my feet and threw myself at the beast who lingered close to my mate. I grabbed the hilt of Gemma’s dagger and twisted. The creature cried out in pain and pulled away.

The werewolf darted off into the night, leaving the bloody blade in my hand. That sample held secrets about what it meant to be a werewolf, answers I could only untangle after I returned to my lab.

“Gemma…” I kneeled down beside her and checked her hands for wounds. I would have preferred to remove her coat and examine her further just to make sure—

“I’m fine, but you...you’re...” she looked down at my chest.

I followed her gaze. My suit was torn and soaked in blood, though my wounds had already begun to heal. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t let her know what I was, especially now. She couldn’t think that I was in any way similar to that creature, even if it was true.

Only genetic testing could tell how closely the virus altered DNA to that of a shifter. It was still entirely possible that the creature couldn’t transform at all, but remained a wolfman all of the time.

“The blood is his,” I lied, pointing to McAlister, who lay on the ground a few feet away. In my fear for Gemma, I had nearly forgotten about him. His breathing was shallow, but at least he was breathing.

I helped Gemma to her feet and followed her to McAlister’s side. She put two fingers on his neck.

“He’s still alive, call 911.” She looked up at me for only a second, then turned her attention back to the man on the ground. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you some help.”

I took out my phone and made the call.

“Give me your coat,” she said, looking up at me.

I did as she said.

“I need you to lift him.”

“What?” I asked.

“Just a little.”

I did as she said, and helped lift McAlister’s side, careful not to aggravate the wounds. Without removing his shirt, I couldn’t tell how bad his injuries were, but using all of the blood as a measure, he was likely to bleed out before help arrived.

Gemma pulled off his jacket and tied mine to it, wrapping the man’s torso in a tight bandage. It might help, and certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“That’s all I can do for him,” she said.

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