Without warning, the massive, muscular frame lying against me violently convulsed. As if a phantom dagger had been driven straight through his chest, or as if he were suddenly suffocating in his own skin, Varg violently thrashed, shoving me away from him with an explosive, panicked force.
The impact was so severe it nearly launched me clear off the bed.
He was completely breathless.
His eyes snapped wide open, but the brilliant, glowing crimson of his gaze had been entirely swallowed by a blackened, vein-shattered savagery. He wrapped both of his massive hands around his own throat, choking, as if an invisible, spectral noose were tightening around his windpipe, severing the flow of oxygen to his lungs.
A series of hollow, strangled, and agonizing gasps—sounds that could only belong to a dying wolf caught in a snare—tore from his mouth.
