"I'll call for backup," Astrid says, reaching for her phone.
"No," Cormac interrupts, already guiding the terrified man toward the back door of the car with gentle but insistent hands. "We need to go now. You need to walk south and pretend you were never here."
My mind stutters, struggling to process Cormac's words. Walk? Leave Astrid here?
Confusion crashes into disbelief. Heat floods my veins. Every instinct screams against separation. Against abandonment. Leaving her unprotected is unacceptable.
My fingers curl into fists, claws threatening beneath my skin.
Astrid's expression hardens like molten metal plunged into cold water. "Walk?"
"No." The word tears from my throat, a command rather than a request, my wolf surging forward with teeth bared. Protective instincts flare hot and desperate in my blood. "Why would she walk?"
"I'm sorry, Agent Mathieson," Cormac says, and there's genuine regret in his voice, a sorrow that might be touching if it weren't so infuriating. "But we need to know what we're dealing with before you do. And I won’t expose my team to you."
"What are you doing?" I growl, resisting his push toward the car, muscles tensing. Cormac's expression remains resolute, a stone wall against my rising fury.
"We need to get him to safety and alert the network," he says quietly, words meant for my ears alone. "I'll explain everything once we're moving."
Astrid steps forward, outrage flashing in her eyes like lightning before a storm. "You are not taking my car. You can't just leave me here."
"I'm sorry," Cormac repeats. "We'll return it to your apartment. I give you my word."
"Your word?" Fury radiates from her in waves I can almost see, a tsunami of righteous anger. "This is my investigation!"
"Stop this," I say to Cormac, my own anger rising like a tide, claws threatening to emerge beneath my skin. "We're not leaving her here."
A flash of movement from the warehouse catches my attention, shadows against shadows moving with too much purpose to be natural. "Something's coming," I warn, instinctively positioning myself between Astrid and the warehouse.
"Which is exactly why we need to move. Now." Cormac shoves me into the passenger seat with unexpected force. "Astrid, you need to run."
He slams the door. I reach for the handle?—
Gone.
The metal has vanished beneath my fingers. I snarl, slamming my fist against the window. The glass holds.
"The hellhounds won't hurt her," Cormac says.
The seatbelt whips around my chest, snapping tight against my body. The strap constricts like a living thing, binding me to the seat despite my strength.
"Release me," I growl, my voice dropping to something inhuman.
My bones crack beneath my skin. Claws emerge, tearing through my fingertips. My canines lengthen, pressing against my bottom lip. The wolf wants out.
"If she dies, I will tear your throat out with my teeth," I promise him, each word razor-edged and absolute.
The partial shift pulses beneath my skin, wolf and man battling for control as Cormac points over Astrid's shoulder.
"That way, right now. Get to the trees."
Cormac slides into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life beneath his hands like a beast awakening. My struggle intensifies, the wolf and man united in desperate need to protect what's ours.
"Stop!" Astrid shouts, moving toward the driver's side, one hand outstretched as if she could physically halt our departure. "You can't?—"
Cormac throws the car into reverse, tires squealing against asphalt as we pull away, the sound like a wounded animal in the night.
Through the window, I see Astrid's expression shift from outrage to disbelief, betrayal written in every line of her face.
