Transcendent by Lesley Livingston Read Free Book Online

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    And that , he realized, was his new reality. Because of her.
    â€œStop!” Mason shouted at Maddox as he hauled on a chain, struggling to keep a massive, golden-furred wolf under control. “Stop it! You’re hurting him!”
    She squeezed past the milling dark shapes of the other lupines, ignoring the snapping jaws, and shouldered her way past Rafe. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back as the beast suddenly lunged for Mason, howling and snarling, teeth like long, white knives dripping saliva. There was a profound, savage hurt burning in the creature’s eyes. Pain and madness and a self-awareness that no animal should possess. Mason drew back in confusion. She turned to look up into the face of the ancient Egyptian werewolf god.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with him?” she asked.
    â€œYou are joking, right?” Rafe said in a voice tight with anger.
    â€œNo!”
    Mason twisted out of his grip and looked back at the Fennrys Wolf where he hunched in the corner, muscles coiled and ready to spring if she came within reach again. She read in the beast’s eyes then that, given a chance, it would rip her throat out. Maddox tightened his grip on the chain, but his eyes were focused on her.
    â€œWhy is he like that?” Mason asked Rafe. “ You’re not like that! They aren’t. . . .”
    She gestured to the other wolves, who moved with almost one mind, constantly shifting and flanking the yellow wolf, keeping it at bay and surrounded. The air around Fennrys rippled with enchantment and it was as if, for a moment, she was seeing double. The wolf and the man occupying the same space at the same time. Then there was another rippling and the wolf was alone again, howling and writhing.
    â€œIt’s different every time,” Rafe said quietly. “Although . . . it’s never quite like this.”
    Mason knew that he was angry with her. She could hear it in his voice.
    She didn’t care. She had forced Rafe to turn Fennrys into a creature like the rest of his pack. A werewolf. A monster. But alive . Strong. Strong enough to heal from the terrible, mortal wounds that Cal had inflicted with—of all things—a trident.
    â€œDamn near unkillable” was how the ancient Egyptian god of the dead had once described his pack to Mason. And shehad remembered those words when Fennrys had been damn near dead. She’d done what she’d done because Fenn had needed her to do it.
    No .
    That wasn’t what Fenn had needed , a voice in her head corrected her.
    That was what you needed .
    Mason flinched at the flat accusatory tone of her own conscience. But she couldn’t deny that what that voice in her head said was true. Fennrys? He’d been okay. She’d seen it in his eyes as he gazed up into her face. She’d seen there in that moment the peace that had been missing ever since she had first met him. The contentment. The willingness to let it all go and move on, finally. At last.
    He’d looked at her with love and she . . . she hadn’t been able to do it.
    She hadn’t been able to let him go.
    His dying heart, his fading spirit, the strange, lovely smile that framed what would have been his last breath . . . those weren’t things she was prepared to live without.
    Suddenly, there was another twisting of the air all around him and Fennrys was Fennrys again—human and furious and fighting mad—and then, just as suddenly, he was a wolf. His shape was morphing and fluid and he looked almost as though he was trapped at the heart of a thundercloud. The air in the room where it touched him roiled and twisted with dark energy.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Mason asked Rafe.
    â€œHe’s fighting it.”
    â€œCan he do that?”
    â€œI’ve never seen anyone who has.” The ancient god frowned deeply. “Not like this. I just made that boy the next nearest thing