Free The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) by Jess Raven, Paula Black

throat opened up in a
scream and she jerked violently to the side, knocked into a spin that reeled
her brain around in her head like she was trapped in a tumble dryer. There was
a tearing of fabric and then three burning gouges screamed through her body in
blinding, white-hot pain. She’d spun into the attack, turning too soon, or not
soon enough, to avoid the damage. Her pretty blade didn’t look silver anymore,
whipped out in furious panic and stained red before her brain even realised
she’d made contact. Ash panted, her legs tottering her into a drunken run, away
from the throb of agony riding around her shoulder, away from whatever the fuck
it was, all golden fur and sabre fangs snapping inches from her face as she’d been
forced off to the side by its razor blow. Some kind of feral wolverine had
crept up on her and tried to take her out.
    It was not what she thought
it was, it was not, was not! If she let herself believe that it was, Ash knew
without a doubt she’d be just as crumpled as she’d been when she’d seen the
brand on the chest of her stalker. She daren’t look back, she could hear the
thing coming back for her. Her dazed, pain-gripped brain prayed for her stalker
now.
    A rattling hiss of a second
growl startled her as she staggered past a side-street. There was a flash of
movement in her peripheral and next she knew she was tossed onto her ass at the
side of the road, staring at her attacker. The creature yelped, its golden fur
bleeding a spot of red as it tangled with a giant white mass of hairy. Shit!
Another one? She’d heard of packs of wild dogs coming into cities and running
people to ground, but this?
    She didn’t know where the
heads were, but she could hear the teeth as they went to town, ripping into fur
and flesh. All she could do was stare. She could run, and get the hell away,
but she was rooted to the spot, fascinated and terrified and bleeding the
colour of her coat until the shredded fabric couldn’t even be seen against the
torn-up skin beneath.
    A loud whimper cut through
the air, a chainsaw buzz of growls turned on in the animal storm that was
rolling in blood in front of her.
    It was as though she had
slo-mo reactions. She looked to the tussle of animals, fighting over the right
to eat her, and locked eyes with the white beast. It must have been native
Dublin, because nothing she had ever seen had eyes like that. Its blood-red
gaze fixed on her from the ravage of fighting. It didn’t look away, and for
precious seconds, neither could she.
    It was that look, and the
kick in the teeth rip of a machine gun snarl that finally set her feet into
motion. With sawing breaths and screaming muscles, she fled, legging it hell
for leather in the opposite direction.
    Only a backward glance told
her that those red eyes never ever left her.
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWELVE

     
     
    O w ... owowowow.’ Wuss, you’re a goddamn wuss. Put
some alcohol on it and be done with it. Ash winced. The thought of putting
anything on it made her want to cry, and the tears welled up even as she fought
them back with a vicious head shake and tried to clear her watery vision enough
to look at the damage. The lacerations were deep, long and thin, raking from
her nape to curve slashes down her arm. She shouldn’t have spun, not while his
pitchfork or whatever the fuck it was, had still been in her skin. But it was
twist or lose her goddamn head. And the cuts throbbed like she couldn’t
believe; the pain had taken on a life of its own and was slowly weeding through
her system. Her knees ached. She’d hit the ground hard and as she tried to come
up with something to tell the nurses, traipsing into the Accident and Emergency
room at too-damn-early-in-the-morning, she watched the bruises paint themselves
over her skin. Falling down the stairs wasn’t going to cut it.
    ‘Can I help you, Miss?’ The
nurse’s blonde brow creased, her expression bright with concern and ready to
pounce Ash into a chair if she