Chapter 5: The Garage

I followed the blood.

It led down a back corridor, through a mud room, and into a detached garage with a dozen cars under dust sheets.

One light burned over a black sedan.

Mathias stood with his back to me and his palms flat on the roof of the car.

The metal under his hands was dented in the shape of ten fingers.

"Go back inside," he said, without turning.

"No."

"Bryn. Go. Now."

His voice had dropped so low it barely sounded human.

I walked across the concrete anyway.

"You told me not to be afraid of you," I said.

"I know," he said. "I'm afraid of me."

His shoulders heaved.

"Leave. I can't hold it back when you're near me."

"Hold what?"

He turned around.

His eyes were still gold, and his claws were out.

The front of his shirt was torn where he had dug at his own chest.

He was beautiful, and he looked half out of his mind.

"The wolf," he said. "He wants you so much I can taste it."

I stopped an arm's length from him.

My heart was slamming against my ribs, and my mouth was dry.

"Good," I said. "So do I."

He made a raw sound and shut his eyes.

"You don't understand."

"Then show me."

I took his bleeding hand in both of mine and brought it to my mouth.

I kissed the torn palm, and I tasted salt and copper.

He shuddered all the way down.

When he opened his eyes, the gold had swallowed everything.

He seized me by the waist and spun me around, and my front hit the hood of the sedan with a thud.

The metal was cold through my sweater.

His hand fisted in my hair, gently, and tilted my head back.

"Last chance," he said, close to my ear. His breath was shaking. "Tell me to stop."

"Mathias," I said. "If you stop, I'll hit you."

He laughed once, rough and broken.

Then he shoved my jeans and my underwear down to my knees with one hard pull.

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