Chapter 66
His wolf erupted inside hi
with a savagery that nearly shifted his form. His vision transformed, pupils dilating to capture every detail despite the torrential downpour–the exact trajectory of her car, the failing guardrail posts loosened by years of neglect, the precise point of impact that would send her vehicle plummeting into the abyss.
Everything inside him stilled for one heartbeat, then ignited into pure adrenaline–fueled clarity. Not
her. Not her. Never her.
His hand slammed the gear shift down, engine roaring as he floored the accelerator. The speedometer needle jumped, sixty, seventy, eighty–numbers meaningless as his Mercedes hurtled forward like a missile.
Through sheets of rain, he caught a glimpse of her face through the passenger window–eyes wide with primal terror, skin ghost–white in the flash of lightning, mouth opened in a scream he couldn’t hear over the howling storm and shrieking engines.
The sight unleashed something ancient and terrifying within him, a protective rage that obliterated
all other considerations.
“Hold on!” he roared uselessly, as if she could hear him across the distance.
calculating approach angle and impact point with
His wolf seized control, body operating on pure instinct now. He jerked the steering wheel precisely, pure instinct now. He jerked the steering wheel precisely,
the deadly accuracy of an Alpha predator. The Mercedes fishtailed slightly, tires fighting for purchase, but he corrected with inhuman reflexes.
For one suspended moment, time seemed to stop. Raindrops hung in the air like crystal beads. Lysandra’s car teetered at the brink, metal already bending the first guardrail post. One more second and it would break through completely, tumbling end over end into oblivion.
Tristan didn’t hesitate. He rammed his foot so hard on the gas pedal it bent beneath his strength, a bestial growl tearing from his throat as his beloved car shot forward. He braced himself, muscles locking, teeth bared in a feral grimace of determination.
The impact came with the force of a bomb detonation. Metal screamed against metal, the sickening crunch of his driver’s side colliding with the rear quarter panel of Lysandra’s sedan. The airbags exploded in his face with concussive force, but not before he saw her vehicle’s momentum change direction–away from the deadly drop.
His head whiplashed forward then back, vision blurring with the violence of impact and the white powder from the airbags. His car spun like a top, finally stopping perpendicular to the road. Through the settling dust and relentless rain, he watched Lysandra’s car slide sideways, her driver frantically fighting the wheel–but they were no longer heading toward the edge. Instead, they skidded across the asphalt and slammed into the mountain side of the road, metal scraping against rock with an
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Chapter 66
unholy shriek that echoed through the canyon..
His own car spun halfway around before stopping, engine sputtering once, then dying. Steam rose from the crumpled hood, mingling with the rain in ghostly tendrils. For a moment, the only sound was the relentless drumming of water against metal and glass.
The Alpha marks etched into his car’s frame glowed silver in the darkness–magic embedded in the vehicle activating in response to his adrenaline surge. They pulsed once, twice, then faded as his heartbeat steadied.
Tristan touched his forehead, fingers coming away bloody. The pain barely registered. All he could focus on was the other car and its precious cargo.
Lysandra.
Was she hurt? The thought sent fresh panic through him. With trembling hands, he unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved against his door. It creaked open against twisted metal, allowing the storm to invade the vehicle’s interior.
He staggered out into the rain, one thought driving him forward: reach her.
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