Page 79 of Feral Marked

The pressure in my fingertips. The same pressure from the memory, from the basement. The nails darkening, splitting, the bones pushing. But this isn't a fourteen-year-old girl's panicked defense. This is my body, fully bonded, doing what it's been building toward since the gates.

My spine curves. The heat floods everywhere — not painful. Something bigger. Something that feels like becoming. Like the door I've been leaning against my whole life is finally opening and what's on the other side isn't a dark room.

It's me.

Leo's hand tightens on my arm. I hear his voice — "Alex, Alex" — but it's far away. Getting farther.

My jaw aches. My shoulders widen. The gold is blinding now — I can see it through closed eyes, behind my eyelids, under my skin, everywhere.

The last thing I feel is Leo's hand.

The last thing I hear is my own voice making a sound that isn't a word and isn't a growl and isn't a scream.

And then something inside me takes control.