To say Dare was scared shitless was an understatement. First off, there was being attacked…then abducted…then the shifter thing…and the promise of death. How was he not supposed to be utterly terrified?
He found concentrating on the fact that shifters were a real thing less scary out of the rest of the mess. Maybe it was too many blows to the head that made him easily accept what Chiz had said. Whatever, Dare was going with it.
And Chiz wasn’t having any success with trying to change parts of his body. The agonized expression on his face was breaking something inside of Dare.
Dare searched the dusty barn as well as he could, but he found only a flimsy piece of wire, possibly left behind from a bale of hay. He still had to give it a shot, because his last option—their last option—well, he wasn’t certain if he thought it was horrifying or cool.
“Always was an idiot,” he mumbled.
“Stop saying shit like that if it’s about yourself,” Chiz growled. “”Fuck, I can’t—“
Dare scooted over to him. “This is all I could find.” The wire was thin, rusty. “If I fold it over—“ He started to do just that, and the wire snapped. “Damn it.”
“Just try with what you’ve got. I can’t get free.” Chiz nodded toward his ankles. “No, no wait. My wrists.” He leaned forward.
It was awkward as hell, but Dare managed to get the wire in the lock of the metal cuffs. Not that it did any good. The wire broke again, and he wanted to scream obscenities.
“I’ll look around again.” The lighting in the barn sucked—in the way that, there was only a crappy battery-operated lantern hanging up on a hook at the far end of the place. “I probably missed stuff.”
“No.” Chiz shook his head. “My vision is great, and I don’t see anything useful, unless you could reach the lantern.”
Dare snorted despite the danger they were in. “Um, no, I’m not Stretch Armstrong here.” His heart thudded so hard his chest ached. “That leaves my last idea.”
Chiz looked at him warily. “What is it? You smell like you’re terrified. I can see your pulse pounding at the base of your neck.”
After a loud gulp, Dare licked his lips and tried to get some spit in his dry mouth. “Er.” Did he really want to do it? Beats being dead. He moved as close to Chiz as he could get. “B-b—“ And had to cough and try again. “Bite me.”
Chiz’s eyes grew huge as he shook his head. “No, no way. I can’t do that. How would that save us anyway?”
“I could get free of these cuffs. Mine are all escapable if I’m…if I’m like you.” Another gulp.
“You can’t even say it,” Chiz replied. “How—“
“Turn me into a werewolf,” Dare rushed out. “It’s that or die. I don’t want to die.”
Chiz hissed. “There has to be some other way.”
“What? What other way?” Dare thought of every murder he’d ever read about. “Doesn’t everyone hope for another way, being rescued? You think people who are killed aren’t thinking that very thing before they die? That someone, somehow, will find them, save them?”
“Dare…” Chiz studied him warily.
“Please.” Dare wanted to live, and he could handle being a shifter if that’s what it took to get out of there alive.
“We’d still have to fight off a bunch of coyotes,” Chiz pointed out. “And I’m chained.”
“I could leap up the get the lantern,” Dare argued. “Or do the wolf thing, then become a guy again and I will find a way to get that damned lantern down. The hook it’s on alone might be enough to get your cuffs off. But if we don’t hurry, whatever drama is going on outside will stop, and those fuckers will come back in here, and then…then we won’t have any options.”
“I don’t want them to hurt you,” Chiz said. “I don’t want to hurt you. And it does hurt. With sex, orgasming, that’s different. The pain and pleasure mix somehow, but alone, I don’t think it’ll feel good.”
Well, it might, because Dare was already getting a semi, which was stupid considering their situation. “Would it hurt worse than being tortured, raped, then killed?”
Chiz blanched. “What if it doesn’t work? What if only a full-blooded shifter can do it?”
“Then I guess we’ll go with the worst option.” Dare really, really didn’t want to do that.
“Come here,” Chiz urged softly. “Lean your head to the left.”
Bare my neck to him, he means. Oh Jesus. Dare was hot and cold, shivering and sweating, terrified…and aroused. He slowly tipped his head to the left, almost closing his eyes, not certain he wanted to see what was about to happen.
Chiz’s eyes turned yellow, inhuman, and his canines grew longer as he focused on Dare’s neck.
Dare didn’t hear the ruckus outside over his own pounding pulse, didn’t even know if he was breathing. His dick grew harder as Chiz leaned in.
Chiz licked his skin, and Dare whimpered. His cock throbbed. He felt the waft of Chiz’s laughter against his neck, then an instant later, pain, bright, hot—orgasmic, spiraling through him, shooting out his dick as he came.
He might have moaned, might not have. Dare’s life altered in that instant, and he felt it, felt the pleasure and change, the agony that spike ecstasy, the pulses of cum as he was lost, lost in that moment.
Chiz laved the bite, and Dare shivered. He was boneless, but something was squirming inside of him. A little voice in his head reminded him that they were on borrowed time, and he called out to the squiggling thing inside of him.
And he shifted, a painful crunch of bones and tendons that was over before it truly registered. He looked down as Chiz gasped. Saw his furry brown and gray paws.
It worked! Holy fuck! It worked—and I’m a wolf! A shifter! But before he could dwell on that fact, his beast told him danger was near, and Dare let the wolf instincts take over.