Page 104 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Wade's hot blood floods my mouth.

Don't even remember fucking moving.

When you what? I want to snarl.

WHEN YOU FUCKING WHAT?

My jaws clamp down harder.

Teeth tear through jersey.

Padding.

Flesh.

Wade shrieks.

His fists pound against my head, my back, anywhere he can reach. Fingers digging into my exposed jaw muscle. His hands shred on my teeth.

The arena falls away, leaving only the frantic rabbit-pulse of his carotid slamming against my tongue.

I could kill him.

Right fucking now.

Do it, the feral voice howls.

He HURT her.

MARKED her.

FORCED her.

End him.

End him.

END HIM⁠—

A new thought surfaces through the red haze like a body floating up from deep water.

Ivy is watching.

A child is screaming.

The sound tears through the arena, through the crowd noise and the roaring in my skull.

My eyes snap up.

The glass behind Wade reflects back at me.

I'm a blood-drenched fucking nightmare.

Exposed teeth buried in flesh.

Eyes bright with feral rage.

This is me.