AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Because very few chose to live as loners. Shifters need familial connections and thrive in groups, and these animals here, are not the peaceful kind that decided living among humans is what they need—prefer.
No. The six arseholes crouched and poised ready to attack are volatile.
Bloodshot eyes, matted hair, and thin frames full of battle scars.
Then, there is the hate in their stare, and the intent to kill to protect the warlock is clear.
They also haven’t noticed my presence, much less the gathering horde behind me.
My paw taps the ground twice, and Timoth’s head snaps up. His shoulders relax a bit.
Kill them all but the warlock, I snarl through the link, rushing at the one who chooses to launch himself at my beta. Our bodies collide, my much larger black wolf slamming into the muddy brown pelt where his ribs are and the impact disorients him. There’s the crack of his bones and a pain-filled yelp, but I don’t give him the chance to gather himself.
Within seconds, my teeth are at his neck and I snap it like a twig.
Others around me join, the growls and snarls filling the air. From the corner of my eye, I catch Cain swiping his paw across an underbelly and then the quick gush of blood that sprays his face. The tan wolf cries and falls, whimpering and dragging himself away, but my Gamma doesn’t give him the chance.
The scrawny wolf lies limp with a ripped throat before his next intake of breath.
The rest fall just the same. All except one.
He bursts through the cluster of ash trees across from us, teeth bared and heading straight for me. The wolf is small, malnutrition noticeable, and I stop him with a singular growl. “Shift.”
A sharp yelp escapes his snout, paws coming to swipe across his nose while he rubs the side against the grass. He’s fighting the command, trying to regain his footing, but nature is unforgiving. The body responds without his input, forcing the transformation, and what’s left a minute after is nothing more than a pup.
The kid can be no older than seventeen and looks to need medical attention with cuts and bruises littering his human skin. He also appears to be under the influence of some kind of spell.
“Please make it stop,” his voice cries out hoarsely, and hands scratch at his ears. They’re also bloodied, the torn dermis infected.
“Pin him.” Cain jumps on him, holding the kid down at once while I turn my attention to the warlock. There is a repetitive incantation coming from him, the pupils of his eyes blown wide, but I stop him with one swift kick to his exposed knee.
It breaks, and so does his hold on the kid.
Both scream, one in pain and the other in fear, the latter of which calms when he sees me.
The teenager bares his neck and stills.
Not the act of a dangerous rogue. Even the peaceful ones who leave their packs for a solitary life among humans, no malice in their hearts, become unattached to their roots.
Customs.
Not out of disrespect; they’re polite and peaceful, but more so out of losing their connection to the animal. The wolf hides. Withdraws.
The dangerous rogue, though, is just a bloodthirsty arsehole. Provoking, fighting, and killing is their nature.
Are you thinking what I am?
Help him. Then, a barely perceptive nod is all I give Cain. He’ll know what to do.
My focus is on the gasping bloke squirming under Timoth. There’s also the real lack of restraint or acknowledgment of the spell, but before I can ask my beta, he shakes his head.
A warning growl rips from him, and his hands wrap around the warlock’s neck. “What did you do to me? Where’s the blonde woman that I saw with you?”
It’s not Isabella. Her red hair is unmistakable and so is my relief.
I’m not ready to see her. Or deal with what we are…not until I kill all involved.
“Afraid, puppet?” Timoth tightens his grip, the man’s face turning red. His lips are a little blue, yet his speech is clear. “We’re coming for every last one of you.”
