Lethean Shroud

She howled as the fiery steel sizzled against her flesh. Burnt skin odors burrowed into her senses. Writhing, she thrashed against the rocker. Jerked against the crazed stranger’s grip.

“Hold still.” Cursing, Reeve wrenched her wrist in a tightening grip. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

He peeled the blade away, ripping a layer of seared skin. She shrieked. Excruciating pain flared across her arm. Knees buckled.

Her captor tucked the knife in his belt. Stretching her raw forearm, he sniffed at the bubbling tissue. “Hmm, can’t rightly tell if you got a lycan’s burn level with the campfire wounds and all. One thing’s for certain, though.” He narrowed his slate gray eyes.”You ain’t one of my kind.”

She choked back sobs and squealed. “Let me go.”

He cast her to the floor. She collapsed onto the gruesome, fur rug. Nausea roiled in her gut.

Boot steps thudded across the outside stoop. “Sheriff, open up.” The door rattled against the barricade under the pounding of a fist.

Rayanna’s voice cracked as she yelled. “Help! He’s gonna–”

Reeve dashed to her side and clamped his smoky, calloused hand over her mouth. “I ain’t presentable, Sheriff. Gimme a second to cover my unmentionables.”


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