Into Their Woods (The Eerie, #1)

Before I can answer, the door unexpectedly swings open again.

I jump to my feet in alarm and then gape when a drop-dead gorgeous man strides in with purpose. His T-shirt and jeans hug every decadent inch of his tall, well-built frame. The light gray color of his shirt matches the hue of the man’s eyes perfectly and complements his warm skin tone and dark brown hair. He moves toward me but stops when the sheriff steps forward and blocks his path. They stare at each other for a moment, but I’m distracted by the fact that the man who just strolled in here isn’t wearing any shoes.

Dove gray eyes find mine over the sheriff’s shoulder. Strangely, they’re swimming with relief, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe as I dumbly stare back at him.

“You’re okay?” he asks, somehow sounding both stricken and grateful.

He smiles at me when I continue to just stare, and holy shit, that smile is nothing short of resplendent. It’s the rays of sun breaching the darkest clouds, warming and illuminating the world despite the storm.

Ellery clears his throat, and the gray-eyed god’s stare flashes from me to the sheriff. The new man’s smile dims and then drops completely.

I practically watch him build a wall, brick by brick, and shutter his reactions behind it.

A strange part of me protests the loss, as though something vital and precious was just stolen from me and hidden away under lock and key. I don’t understand what just happened or my reaction to it, but I want to take a sledgehammer to this man’s defenses and crawl through the cracks to find him again. I feel like I need to.

“Noah, this is Gannon. He’s…had some experience with what you’re going through, and he’s going to help us explain some things,” the sheriff tells me, gesturing to his father and then to himself.

I look back to the barefoot guy and find his expression is now glacial. A shiver runs down my spine as I fit the name Ellery just gave me with the man’s face.

Gannon.

Wait.

My head snaps to Ellery and my eyes go wide with shock, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest as dread creeps down my throat and spreads through my chest.

He just asked me if my leg was okay. Except, I never told him where I was bitten. I mentioned the wolves and that I thought I’d been bitten, but I never said where.

Fear seeps into my limbs as I look from Ellery to Gannon to Morgan Arcan. They’re blocking the door, so I start backing up to get closer to the windows behind Ellery’s desk. All three men take a concerned step toward me at my alarmed reaction, and I stumble back until my shoulder blades smash into a wall.

Wedging myself into the corner of the office, memories bombard me from when I woke up this morning. Ruger and Perth were talking about an Ellery—who’d just left before I woke up—and a Gannon—who…bit me.

Holy fucking shit.

Betrayal swarms me like cloying jellyfish, stinging me relentlessly for not making the connection sooner.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

They’re in on it. They’re part of the cult, and I’m trapped.





9





NOAH





My breath hitches and my pulse flutters in my neck so rapidly I can feel it. A prey animal captured by three deadly predators, my heart rattles my ribs.

Ellery raises his hands and gentles his voice, bending until he’s eye level with me as he moves behind his desk, blocking my access to the windows. “It’s okay, Noah, you’re safe. We’re going to explain everything. No one is going to hurt you, I swear it.”

Panic claws at me because he has to be fucked in the head if he thinks I’m going to believe him. Then again, of course he’s fucked in the head; he’s in the same cult that attacked me last night. And now I’m cornered in a room with him and two other big-ass crazies I couldn’t fight on my best day.

Doesn’t mean I won’t fight though. I will not go down easily, and they’re not going to catch me from behind this time.

A bestial snarl fills the room, the sound a vicious warning. It isn’t until I feel a strange rumble moving through my chest that I realize the sound is coming from me.

Shocked, I slap my hand over my mouth to silence the hair-raising noise, a terrified squeak sneaking out of me as the growl abruptly cuts off.

Morgan Arcan chuckles like he thinks whatever the fuck I just did was adorable.

Bastard.

I level him with a cold glare, which only seems to amuse him even more.

A strange cloud of relax, it’s going to be just fine blows over me and muddles my thoughts the longer I stare at him. I can feel an unwelcome sensation of warm fuzzies constrict around me, and I mentally bat it away like I would a swarm of mosquitos.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” I demand, removing my eyes from the older man and training my scowl on Gannon and then Ellery. At least they look appropriately remorseful right now instead of amused.

“Just let us explain,” Ellery hedges, and I scoff.

“You sound just like the other two cult crazies from this morning,” I snap at him.

“But of course, he does, they’re all somehow in on this…whatever this even is.”

As if he can hear my wild thoughts, Ellery holds up a placating hand. “Nothing bad is going on. We’re not a cult. I promise everything is going to make sense if you’ll just hear us out.”

“So, get fucking talking!” I bark at him, so fed up with all of this I want to cry.

The drumming in my head starts again, and color seems to leach from my vision, making everything look strange. Hysteria surges inside my body. It squeezes my throat, making me feel like my veins are expanding and contracting, compressing so tightly that my blood can’t get through.

I’m dying.

Is that what this is?

A dizzy sensation ripples through me, and I don’t know if I’m fading like Ellery thought earlier, but I can feel that my body is on the edge of collapse, because my heart suddenly stops its rapid beating and gives a thick, sluggish throb.

Holding myself upright suddenly seems far too difficult. I reach for the walls behind me, fingertips skimming the paint on either side of the corner I’ve tucked myself into. The texture of the wall feels like sandpaper against my fingertips.

“You’re special, Noah,” Ellery says softly.

No.

No!

That’s what cult leaders or psychopaths spout—right before they peel off your skin and wear it as a shirt.

“In fact, everyone here is special because we can do something that humans can’t,” Morgan adds reassuringly, but I feel anything but reassured right now.

“Humans?” My voice cracks on that word, which barely gets out before my throat snaps shut and I suddenly can’t breathe.

“You’re not human. And what you’re feeling right now is the first sign that you aren’t. You’re eerie. You’re a wolf shifter,” Morgan Arcan continues. His voice is placid and soothing, reminding me of a smooth lake, though his words gouge a hole through my entire reality.

Ridiculous.

Insane.

It can’t be.

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