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I pulled out the flashdrive and shut my laptop down, my mind thrown into a state of stupor as I attempted to let everything sink in—let the truth about him sink in.
Just like us, Killian had the ability to shift, but he was nowhere near an ordinary werewolf.
The structure of his features reflected a wolf, but he held the posture of a human being, standing on two of his feet with a muscle mass that overpowered the likes of my kind. It was like he was a disfigured mix of skin and wild, and I could only imagine how horrific it would be like to stand in front of such presence.
Mikhailov had managed to mutilate the very nature of our kind by completely corrupting the essence of Killian's wolf.
And through Killian's torment under her needles and constant probing, she had tipped the balance between skin and wild into a dangerous irregularity."What have they done to you?" I muttered.
I jumped when I heard someone knock at the front door.
"Valerie! It's Reed, open up!" Reed's muffled voice called out.
I immediately placed my laptop down on the sofa and stood up to answer the door.
I was greeted by a distraught looking Reed, his features dotted with sweat and a bruise forming just above his right cheek.
I gasped when I noticed the harsh line of open wound that traveled along the expanse of his chest, and I became concerned with the blood seeping through the navy cotton shirt that he was wearing.
"Shit, you need to come in. I'll patch you up," I opened the door wider to make way for his entrance, but Reed quickly shook his head.
"Now's not the time, I'm fine," Reed said.
"What happened, Reed?"
"Heath's missing," he mumbled, completely taking me off guard, "He went on a rampage as soon as he got off of the morphine. It all happened so fast, I just— I couldn't hold him down long enough for Maxon to come back. I lost him, Valerie. You have to help me find him, I've no idea where he went."
I swallowed down the impending anxiety from the possibilities of where Heath might have gone as he carried with him the danger of an uncontrolled wolf.
He could honestly be anywhere—he could be on his way to the nearest city or maybe even trespassing a neighboring pack, and both of the circumstances could lead him to his death.
YOU ARE READING
Skinned
WerewolfHe is without a pack, He is without a mate, And he is without a wolf, He is the sanctuary of brutality, a slaughter that waits for its turn. He is Killian, the beast built with strength, power, and chaos that yearns for a reign, not of an Alpha, but...