Burning Wild Page 43


Joshua swore under his breath. “We were taught from the time we were young. We had the benefit of the elders at all times. How could he possibly be prepared for the thrall? Most of us can barely hold back our leopard, and we’ve trained for years. He’s going to kill someone.”

“No, he isn’t,” Drake said, his voice firm. “Do you hear me, Jake? Fight for control. When you shift, you’ll think he’s stronger, but he’s still you. The core of you. You dictate to him. He’ll want to kill any male within miles of his female. That’s natural, very normal, but the feeling will be stronger than anything you’ve ever known, any hatred, any rage, a murderous need that rakes at your gut and roars in your belly. You have to control it. If this happens and you’re near your woman, it’s a thousand times worse, and you have to be careful what you do to her. The instinct to conquer and dominate is overwhelming. Control is everything. Do you understand me? Nod your head if you can hear me and comprehend what I’m saying.”

Jake shredded the leather on the seat, the rumbling in his chest deepening. He nodded his head, trying to absorb the importance of Drake’s statement when every bone in his body seemed to be cracking and splintering, every muscle tearing and every cell screaming in demand for Emma. He knew it was Emma triggering this violent storm of fury. She filled his mouth with her taste; he felt her flesh next to his, was desperate to bury his cock deep inside her. To pound mercilessly. To sink his teeth in her neck and force her to submit completely to him. To admit she belonged to him and only him. Emma.

Oh God, Emma, where are you? Are you safe? Be safe. I need you. He took a breath, fighting for sanity, fighting to keep her safe in spite of his every need. No! Stay away from me. What the hell is happening to me?

His eyes burned. Fear beat in his veins. He wasn’t going to live through this without killing someone. The need rose up like a tidal wave, swamping him, shaking him—worse, the need to cause pain, to hurt someone, as this hurt, this terrible, driving obsession. His stomach lurched, roiled, wanted to heave at the idea that he could be so twisted, so disgusting as to want to torture someone, that he could perhaps derive any kind of pleasure or satisfaction from another’s pain. He may as well be dead. He would be dead before he allowed himself to harm Emma or the children, before he became like his parents.

His sides heaving, his body bent, taking him to the floor of the truck. The walls were too close, the cab too small. He fought to keep the leopard at bay. A few more miles. What was Drake doing?

“His eyes are completely gone,” Joshua reported. “I don’t know how the hell he’s holding on. We’ve got to get him out of the truck.”

Drake stomped down harder on the gas pedal. He was going far too fast for the road conditions, but risking an accident was a better choice than finding himself locked in a small area with a fully grown, enraged male leopard in the midst of a thrall. Drake’s own leopard was fighting for supremacy, ripping and clawing in an effort to protect him. Twice, his stiletto-sharp claws emerged and retracted. He hadn’t shifted since he’d been shot and the doctors had reconstructed his leg, leaving in a metal plate. There was no freedom for him or his leopard.

He jerked the wheel around and slid into the stand of trees just inside the preserve. He yanked a tranquilizing rifle from the rack at the back window and bailed out, Joshua following suit on the opposite side of the truck.

Inside the truck, Jake’s body contorted as he tried desperately to shed his jeans, his claws tearing them into strips. He kicked the torn material away as the change took him, the ropes of muscles doubling, tripling beneath the thick rosette fur.

Drake backed off from the rocking truck, moving out and away from the trees. The hope was that Jake would force his leopard into the forested area. If he allowed the leopard free rein, the male would go for his mate, and they’d have no choice but to tranquilize him to keep him from killing any human males in close proximity to Emma.

Drake hoped it didn’t come to that. To dart a leopard was no easy task, and it came with consequences. Often the heart of a big cat simply couldn’t take the drugs and shut down completely.

The large male leopard went crazy, throwing itself against the walls of the truck, ripping at the seats and slamming into the windows until spiderweb cracks appeared in the windshield.

“He’s gone, Drake,” Joshua warned. “Out of his mind. You’ll have to take him when he tries to bolt.”

Drake stubbornly shook his head. “He’s strong.”

“If Emma is his mate and she’s starting into the Han Vol Don, and they’ve been mated at least once before in another cycle, the thrall will be too strong for a novice. You don’t know what’s inside him, Drake. You said yourself his parents were bred from a corrupt bloodline. He’s dangerous. There could be a massacre.”

“He’ll do this.”

“He’s never heard of the Han Vol Don. How can he understand what’s happening to him?”

“He’ll do this,” Drake repeated. “I know him. His strength. His determination. He’ll control his leopard.”

“Damn it, man. You’re betting your life.”

The truck rocked again and the leopard stuck his head out the open door. It went eerily silent. Still. The fur was dark with sweat. As if sensing a threat, birds fell silent and insects ceased all sound. The leopard lowered his head, golden eyes staring at Drake with focused intent.

“He’s locked on you, he’s locked on you,” Joshua warned, tearing at his own shirt and tossing it aside. He yanked off both boots, keeping his eyes on the leopard.

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