Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters Book 1)
Rejected: Chapter 17

He sat in one of the single seater armchairs. A huge piece—I supposed it had to be to encompass his frame. Again, he was watching me with those fire-touched eyes that just never stopped seeing everything. Stripping me down to the base element that made up my soul.

My wolf stirred in my chest, her energy reaching out to touch the beast himself. Shadow didn’t flinch, just accepted her touch, and I had no idea what went on between them because she didn’t communicate it to me, but I felt like she was content when their exchange was done.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Deciding to choose my battles wisely, I didn’t fight, settling into the chair opposite his.

There were dozens more chairs around us and I had to ask, “You have a lot of visitors?”

His eyes flared, and I could have sworn swirls of inky smoke slithered off him as his face settled into hard lines. “I do the talking, pup.”

I glared. Pup was used in packs if the shifter was a child. Calling an adult a pup usually meant you thought they were small, pathetic, beneath you… an insult. Exactly how this motherfucker meant it.

Biting my lip to not say what was on my mind, I went to my happy place: imagining all the books in this room were mine and I’d be forever surrounded by their beauty and knowledge…

“Are you even listening to me?” he demanded.

I blinked at him. “Sorry. I figured if you wanted me to listen, you’d have ordered it. Like everything else.”

He stood—a giant, scary beast—and I lost the ability to move or speak or breathe. Everything inside shut down, and while my mind was screaming, I couldn’t force any sound from my lips.

“I could kill you without laying one finger on you,” he said, almost conversationally, and this time I was definitely listening. “Even better, before I kill you, I could make you hurt in ways that you’ve only imagined in your worst nightmares.”

If I had the ability to panic, I would have. As it was, not breathing was definitely taking its toll on me. If he didn’t loosen his hold soon, I was going to pass out, leaving me in a very vulnerable position with this devil. Thankfully, he released me just as dark spots danced across my vision. I collapsed forward, coughing and choking, my starved lungs desperately attempting to suck air in.

He retook his seat, relaxing, his legs wide in what used to be my favorite man-spread until I’d met this megalomaniac. “As I was saying,” he rumbled, “I need you to tell me exactly what happened on your pack lands earlier today. I felt your energy touch the Shadow Realm.”

His voice lowered on the last two words, growing colder, and I had zero clue what that meant. Shadow Beast was an enigma, and I had no reference for his tone changes. He was not shifter or human, and I was way out of my fucking element.

His chest rumbled at my silence and I gave myself three seconds to decide what to do. Lie or truth? Which gave me the better odds of survival? I had no idea if touching the Shadow Realm was forbidden or not.

“I really don’t know what happened,” I said, deciding part-truth was the way to start.

His scowl appeared like an old friend and I was already growing used to seeing it—Shadow’s signature look.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I said to him. “I really have no idea. Tonight was my first shift, solstice full moon and all that.” I refrained from adding my opinion on the stupidity of his rule, just in case he was easily offended. As much as I wanted to ask him why the age of twenty-two, now just didn’t feel like the right time.

“Your first shift?” He moved forward in his chair and I was almost certain I’d never had this sort of focused attention on me before. Shadow certainly knew how to make a girl blush.

And… piss herself from fear.

“Yes. First shift, and when the sun started to rise, I found my true mate.” I paused as the remembered pain sliced through me again. The unfulfilled bond was like a ragged piece of soul dragging across rough ground.

“Your mind has trouble staying in one place, I see.”

Shooting him my version of an angry face, I hurried to finish the story. “Anyway, as I was saying, first shift, got rejected by my asshole of a mate, got attacked, and because of the soul-deep pain of my rejection, my wolf went ballistic. This was when my vision doubled over, and I could see shadowy figures that definitely didn’t exist in the normal Earthly plane.” I swallowed roughly at the memory. “I’m fairly certain no one else could see them.”

“You touched one.”

Statement.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Can you do it again?”

I blanched. “Why the fuck would I do it again? It was scary and felt… unnatural. Yeah, not a fan.”

He steepled his fingers. “Let me rephrase. You will do it again, or I’ll kill you and everyone you love.”

Fuck. “Well, when you put it like that…” I trailed off, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. “The only problem is I have zero idea what I did, and replicating it is not going to just happen.”

This was probably the point he exploded and ripped me into million pieces. I really just hoped it was quick.

“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 replace 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 replace 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 Brontë 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.