Doing so kept their predatory instincts at bay—they’d all learned long ago how important that was, but no one more than him.
You’re a beast. His mother’s words echoed in his ear. Why would she be surprised at that? Why would his nature be so bad when they’d been created in Hati’s image?
All he knew was that he didn’t want to be locked up again. Couldn’t bear it. And he hated the old surge of panic that rose up in him, a sign that the street mutt inside had not been exorcised.
If he thought too much about it, his scar began to ache fiercely. His heart beat a tattoo against his rib cage as he ran his hand over the long, knotted swath of tissue that ran diagonally across his chest, starting just above his heart and traveling downward, as though someone had tried to flay him open.
Someone had, just to see if he would die.
The only scars that won’t heal on a Dire are scars made by another Dire.
Hell, dying would’ve been the easy part.
“Good run,” Rifter said, with a smile and a hand clamped on Stray’s bare shoulder. He’d been behind the gazebo with Gwen, who still hadn’t gotten entirely used to being completely naked in front of all the men, and who already wore a T-shirt, though the rest of them were still bare-ass naked.
The Dires didn’t get moon crazed, but they had grown up in a time when hunting prey had been easier and more acceptable.
For as long as he could remember, Stray had refused to be the prey, had outrun and outgunned most anyone or anything that dared to come near him. He almost went mad when Rifter and Rogue were captured and tortured, because he knew what that felt like all too well.
“Stray, this thing with your brother—how much of a fucking freak is he?” Vice asked without prelude.
Stray’s way of answering was to jump toward Vice with a growl as Jinx got between them.
“Guess I’ve got my answer.” Vice stared at Stray over Jinx’s shoulder. “We need him, so don’t fuck this up.”
“Glad you agreed not to fuck with him,” Jinx muttered, his hand shooting out to hit Vice across the back of the head.
Stray turned from them to look up at the sky as the two Dires tussled next to him.
The moon wasn’t ready to relent her hold on the world just yet—these last few hours of dawn were some of Stray’s favorites, the in-between time when most creatures were quiet and everything seemed at peace.
The solitude was what Stray enjoyed the most. He knew Jinx best understood, as they were the only two who consistently slept in wolf form. For Jinx, doing so blocked out all the ghosts who constantly needed his help.
For Stray, blocking out others wasn’t that easy. His ability was developing at an alarming rate. At first, the wolf’s emotions had to be really strong in order for Stray to hear his thoughts. Now, if he tuned in, he could hear just about everyone—Dire, Were, human, maybe even witch—and it made him feel like he was going nuts.
Hell, maybe he was.
Dire Needs: A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan Page 33