The Amber Shift

Fifty-Five

TW: See summary.

Noelle

It turns out that Dante and Asher were absolutely right—being forced to hold back from shifting is excruciating, and the urge to satisfy my sexual needs is stronger than ever. It's like the first time I shifted times ten. I am writhing on the hard mattress, trying to remain calm when my feet get tangled in the sheet at the bottom of the bed.

"Fuck," I yelp, kicking with all the strength I have until my bare feet are free. I stare down at the shackles on my ankles and a switch inside my brain flips.

Yes, what they say about silver is true. If it touches your skin, it is extremely harmful to a lycan. So the silver bullet thing? Yep, totally true. It's got to be against your bare skin to take effect, though.

My eyes dart between the sheet and the shackles. I take a deep breath and will myself to calm down, waiting for my racing heart to slow. Over the last day, I've learned that I can freely move if I remain calm. It's like the silver feeds off my energy. The more worked up I get, the harder it is to move. I'm still a little sluggish, but I can walk, dress myself, and bring a fork to my mouth if I remain calm.

I bring the corner of my sheet to my mouth and rip a piece off with my teeth. Pulling myself up into a sitting position, I tuck the sheet underneath the shackle on my left ankle. Immediately, relief replaces the crushing sensation on that small section of skin. 

It works.

I rip another piece of the sheet and repeat the process until I have pieces of material stuffed all the way around the shackle, separating the silver from my skin. I make sure all the pieces are hidden under the metal ring and lie back on the bed, tucking the torn side of the sheet against the wall.

Maybe if I lay here long enough, I will regain some strength in this leg, then I can try it with all the shackles and get the hell out of here. Keys jingle at the door, and I know before it even creaks open that it's Asher.

"Good afternoon, love," he coos, setting a bottle of water and a pill on the table next to the bed. "Here's your birth control pill. We can't be missing doses of that one, now, can we?"

I fight back my scowl and watch as he takes the cap off the bottle, lays the pill on my tongue, and gives me a sip to wash it down.

"Thank you," I grumble, avoiding eye contact with him.

He reaches over and turns my face toward his, caressing my cheek.

"Are you feeling okay? Is the shift getting to you?"

I nod and say, "I'm feeling fine. I survived my first night on this hard ass mattress, so I guess I can survive anything." I don't mention the throb between my legs or my heavy breasts; those are things Asher does not need to know about.

"I remember how easily turned on I was for my first few full moons. I wanted skin against mine and my cock buried deep in warm, wet places." The backs of his fingers trail down the side of my neck, and I can't help it when my eyes flutter shut. He lowers to the edge of the bed and his hand continues its path over my collarbone. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Behind my closed eyelids, all I see is Elijah. "Yes," I breathe, clenching my thighs together.

I thought the shackles were working against me, but it was my own skin and need. Every inch of me craves to be touched, to feel hard muscles and wet kisses. The throb between my legs pounds with every heartbeat, begging to be filled.

Asher leans in and brushes his lips on the curve of my neck and shoulder. His fingers move down my shirt, releasing the first button. The cool air in the room caresses my heated skin and goosebumps spread over my body.