Free Southern Shifters: Werelock (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Mina Carter

life?” Lance jeered, a boot on Hale’s shoulder and shoved. The unconscious man sprawled on his back and a couple of women in the crowd gasped in surprise. His face was battered and bruised, not a sign of consciousness in his limp body.
    “No, didn’t think so.” Lance spat on him, and stood. “Get them out of my sight. I don’t want to see them until the party tonight.”
    The gargoyle stepped forward and picked Hale up as though he were a sack of potatoes, throwing him over one shoulder.
    “Please, don’t hurt him!” she begged as the stone-man grabbed her by the upper arm and began to walk. She hurried to keep up. It was that or have her upper arm pulverized by his grip. She tried to check on Hale as he dragged them down the dirt path to the old pig sheds, Lance’s impromptu “dungeons.” Converted now all the livestock was gone, they were well-made, concrete boxes with steel doors that were as escape-proof as maximum security.
    Their brutish captor opened the door and threw them both inside as though they were little more than bags of garbage to be disposed of.
    She cried out in pain as she hit the ground hard, all the wind knocked out of her on impact. Any warmth from the summer sun outside was instantly leeched away by the contact with the cold concrete. A pipe in the corner leaked, leaving most of the floor wet, and slimy with algae. She shivered, and scrambled up to reach Hale.
    He was still unconscious, his skin pale in the dimness within the shed. Biting her lip, she pressed two fingers against his throat. He had a pulse, but it was weak and thready. Shit, they’d really worked him over.
    “Hale? It’s Renae… please, wake up.”
    With concerned eyes, she studied his face. It was black and blue, with a cut at the corner of his lips. Gently, she parted them with her fingers to make sure he wasn’t missing any teeth. The last thing he needed was them falling into the back of his throat and choking him while he was unconscious.
    There were no gaps, and no blood in his mouth. With a quick sigh of relief, she carried on her examination. Peeling back the sheet they’d wrapped him in, she discovered his ribs and stomach were badly bruised, but his knuckles weren’t. He hadn’t even tried to defend himself.
    “Hale? Can you hear me? You just had a little accident. You just need to wake up, okay?”
    Anger sizzled through her veins. What the hell had happened? She’d yelled enough to wake the dead in the kitchen so how had they managed to catch him unawares? The memory of her sleepiness in the kitchen resurfaced and she swore. Shit, those warlocks had to have used a sleeping spell on them. How had she been able to shrug it off?
    She ignored the pain of the rough concrete against her knees as she tried to make him more comfortable. The aura around him was different, and deep within her, her cat whimpered in distress. He was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.
    Tears streamed down her face as she tucked the sheet around his shoulders. She couldn’t live without him. The fact that she’d known him less than a day made no difference. In her heart of hearts she knew, her cat knew, that his man was hers. Her mate, or would have been had she never met Lance.
    Cuddling closer, she wrapped herself around him, trying to share her body heat and opened up the connection between them. Her cat purred and tried to push through the tiny gap to reach the part of him that was lion. Trying to share their strength and heal him. The two halves of her, woman and cat, were in perfect accord. They’d save him even if it meant giving themselves to death.
    Something clicked and the world around her swam, the shadows in the shed closing in around her. Moving slightly, she brushed her lips against Hale’s temple.
    “I love you. I’m sorry.”
    Her energy exhausted she let the blackness creep over her. As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt her cat take over, plunging them into the shift to protect them