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"I won't. I'll tell them we failed."

"You did fail," Ori pointed out. "But Lain has a point. We can't just let you go."

The man carefully sat up a little straighter, moving slowly from both his injury and the wary eyes of the coyotes.

"You have no reason to believe me, but I'm not the villain here. I swear," he said, but he didn't look at Ori or Lain. Instead, he focused on Typhon and how he leaned into my touch. "I came here because I wanted to help him." He nodded toward Typhon. "He's my friend. Or at least, he used to be."

"Typhon? Is that true?" I asked quietly. His eyes were drooping and he leaned more and more into my hands, as if my touch was the only thing keeping him upright. He blinked when I said his name, but didn't respond.

"He's too hurt for this. We need to get him somewhere safe," I said over my shoulder. "We can deal with this later, can't we?"

Ori muttered something under their breath in a language I'd never heard before. It sounded like a plea for patience.

"I'm afraid not. This road is mostly unused, but not entirely, and we need to clear out. As much as I'd like to take the time to heal before we handle the problem, that's impossible." They came over to my side, squatting down until they were at eye level with Typhon. "Quinn is safe. You have to let go."

Typhon's eyes went to Ori and in their burnt orange depths I saw how fully the beast controlled them right now. The human side of Typhon was nowhere to be seen and now, the feral half glared defiantly at Ori with his face still nestled in my hands.

"Quinn, talk to him. He'll listen to you."

Ori was making some heavy assumptions, but they were right about one thing: we were running out of time to end this without more bloodshed.

"Typhon." I murmured his name, and his full attention immediately focused back on me. It was a strangely heady feeling, realizing just how attuned he was to me, no matter what shape he took. "It's been a rough day, huh? You were amazing. You protected all of us."

Typhon sighed heavily, stepping closer until his head now rested on my shoulder, his vulnerable throat exposed to me. When he slumped against me, I nearly toppled over, but held firm and instead wrapped my arms around his neck in a gentle hug.

"We're safe now," I whispered in his ear. "We're going to go home to Rom and the kittens and Hash Brown as soon as we deal with this. I can't get you home like this, though. You were perfect today. Will you let the human side take over for just a little while, just until we're home?"

In all honesty, I didn't think this would work. Even the day I'd first seen him, there'd been a hint of human intelligence in Typhon's eyes, though I hadn't realized what it was at the time. Now, there was only the beast's predatory, watchful gaze. Who was I to try to convince him to let go? Until I'd met him, I'd been a boring, anxiety-ridden small-town dog groomer who rescued animals and spent my nights staring at the ceiling wishing for sleep. Until Typhon, I'd forgotten what it felt like to truly live. I owed him more than I could ever think to repay, and here I was, asking for more. There was no reason for him to listen to me.

And yet… something changed. Shifted. The body in my arms condensed, dark fur melding into warm skin. In the blink of an eye, I was hugging broad shoulders that I'd come to know better than my own. Typhon's head still rested on my shoulder, his dark hair hanging in tangles around his face. The bites and bloody claw marks looked even worse without fur to hide them, and nauseating fear clawed at my throat as I realized just how close I'd come to losing him. How close I still might be to losing him.

"Here," a voice murmured, and Lain knelt beside us, politely keeping his eyes above Typhon's shoulders and holding out what looked like a pair of pants. I'd only seen Typhon shift one time, and I'd forgotten his clothes didn't change with him. My face flushed, and I held him closer, accepting the pants with a grateful nod.

Lain put the pants beside me, then stepped back to the truck, standing guard over the last stranger alongside Ori. I didn't know what fate had befallen the other three, and right now, I didn't want to know.

"Do you think you can get these on?" I asked in Typhon's ear. His head rested on my shoulder, face buried against the side of my neck, with his arms around me. He hadn't moved since he changed back, and only the shallow rise and fall of his chest against mine kept my panic at bay.

A moment of silence, then he moved, trying to turn. I felt more than heard his low hiss of pain, a sharp breath darting across my skin.

"Hurts," he ground out, but he tried to move again anyway, only to wince and fall against me, shuddering like he was trying to hold back a cry.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't move." Still holding him, I reached up and brushed the tangles of his hair back from his pale face. "Is it okay if I ask Lain to help?"

Slowly, he nodded, letting his head fall to rest on my shoulder again. When I looked at Lain, he was already moving to my side.

"I've got it. Just keep him steady, okay?" He had a surprisingly gentle touch as he worked, mindful of Typhon's many, many injuries. "You know, I have plenty of experience getting clothes off of pretty men. I can't say I've ever dressed many. This doesn't mean we're besties, though, okay?"

"Wouldn't… dream of it," Typhon grunted. If he realized, like I had, that Lain's running commentary was an attempt to distract him from the pain, he didn't say anything.

"Once you're back on your feet, you and I are still going to have the shovel talk," Lain went on calmly, like he wasn't currently working pants over Typhon's bare ass.

"Shovel talk?" I repeated when Typhon didn't respond. He was breathing harder, his arms tightening around me as Lain worked around the wounds on his thighs and hips. They'd been bad before, but they were worse now, the freshly stitched injuries now ripped open, blood oozing sluggishly from new claw marks.

"Yep. The one where I tell Typhon that if he ever hurts you, I have plenty of friends with shovels who'd help me disappear him and provide an alibi," he said, buttoning the pants. "It's archaic and super problematic if you think about it, but you're my best friend and I'm not above using violence to protect you."

"Never hurt our Quinn." Typhon finally lifted his head just enough to look Lain in the eyes, despite the obvious pain it caused. "We would never."

"I believe you. Lain is just being overprotective," I assured him, giving Lain an exasperated look. He didn't apologize, though. He just shrugged and wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving streaks of Typhon's blood on the dark denim.