Heart's Redemption (MxM)

Chapter 34 ~ Sam

I don't consider the consequences of revealing my demonic form: I only know that something is wrong with Elliot and that if someone doesn't stop him, Ian is going to die.

I transform on reflex—power rippling through my body as I change—and I sense that my form is bigger and more complete than it has been so far.

The wings on my back are heavy and the ivory horns that spiral from my forehead are long and sharp enough to be considered weapons—as are the two-inch claws tipping my fingers and the fangs on which I accidentally cut my bottom lip, tasting blood.

My hair falls like a black silk banner spread in the breeze, and judging by how my vision sharpens and the colors shift, I know the pupils of my now blood-red eyes are long slits like those of a cat.

There's no mistaking me for an angel now.

All this happens in mere seconds, as Elliot barrels towards Ian with ground-shaking force. Without thinking, I leap and land in his path, dropping into a fighter's stance and letting out an ear-splitting, demonic shriek as I spread my wings high over my back.

Solidifying my belief that there's something wrong with him, Elliot doesn't even blink. He continues his charge, clearly intending to tear right through me on his way to what he really wants, which is Ian.

Fortunately for me, I'm more than a pretty, if currently demonic, face. Samasa's memories of ancient, Celestial battles fill my mind—of the graceful death-dance of the Ainasya, and the lethal power of his true form.

I leap as Elliot's huge bear-Shape charges, spreading my wings to catch the air, and then folding them to drop directly on him, landing a heavy blow to the back of his neck.

He crashes to the ground, but it isn't enough to stop him. Regaining his feet, he turns to bellow at me, spit flying from his gaping maw, beady eyes bloodshot with rage.

While Ian's bear-Shape is almost cute—his red fur soft and long, his face more gentle than frightening—Elliot's is anything but. Even when he hadn't been trying to kill us, there'd been something brutal and dangerous about him; his long, square face wasn't anywhere near 'cute', rather bringing to mind the crunch of bone and the rip of tearing flesh.

As he prepares to charge once more, I ready myself, confident my quick reflexes can match his brute strength.

But then he turns away from me and faces Ian once more.

We form a triangle—the three of us—and as Elliot launches himself towards Ian, I don't think I can get between them in time.

I do the next best thing, rushing forward on a collision course, wings beating the air to give me momentum, and crash headlong into Elliot's side, throwing my shoulder against his ribs even as his claws swipe the air in front of Ian's chest—close enough that I hear the fabric of his shirt tear.

Something cracks—one of Elliot's ribs, I think—and the air bursts from his bear's lungs in a rush of breath as he slams to the ground beneath me. Before he can raise himself again, I interlace my fingers to form a joined fist and deal a swift, hard blow to the back of his thick, furry head.

He collapses, unconscious, and then slowly Shifts before my eyes, resuming his natural shape, sandy hair splayed in disarray around his face and a thin stream of blood leaking from his nose. I lift myself to my knees and turn him over, intending to check that he isn't badly injured, when the crack of a rifle makes me freeze, the whistle of a bullet singing past my pointed ear.

I look up to see Maria Walker aiming the long-muzzled weapon at me, ready to take another shot. From the look on her face, I don't think she meant to miss.