But even as the were roared and suffered excruciating pain, even as it started to fall, even as death began to take it, its jaws locked down on Quinn’s shoulder and bit—bit hard—and Quinn’s fate was sealed.
He was able to punch and beat the creature off, and he watched as it fell to the ground, rolled over onto its back, and began the transformation back into man.
Quinn saw at once it was Whelan MacPoole, clan leader of the neighboring estate. Husband to his mother’s sister.
They had never been friends throughout their family’s history. He should have known. He should have suspected. The signs had been there all along, if only he’d noticed.
Quinn bent, pulled his silver-tipped sword from the man’s heart, and stood to look up at the stars before closing his eyes.
He had been bitten.