Goldie glimpses my hands, morphing into claws, fur bursting from my skin as I expand. I meet her eyes one last time before the beast takes over. I slam her front door shut and head into the fray.
Car doors swing open. Sunlight glints off barrels leveled in our direction. The crack of gunfire shreds the night.
We are already in motion.
I barrel toward the shooters, bullets whizzing past. The need to protect my mate drives me. My animal side unleashed, all fury and instinct.
In a blur, Eli zooms into range, drawing their fire. He zigs, zags faster than their eyes can follow. I flank left—JJ right—coordinated and merciless.
Metal shrieks as we slam the SUVs sideways in a cacophony of glass and crushing metal. Cries ring out—surprise morphing into pain.
My fangs find flesh. Copper floods my mouth. I lose myself to the beast, consumed by the primal need to destroy any threat.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I'm vaguely aware of my hide being penetrated and the warmth of my own blood coating my fur.
All I can think is that I must protect my mate, so I do. I follow the part of me born of fang and rage until there isn’t a single one of them left standing.
The SUVs lay in ruins, contorted carcasses of steel and fire. I stand amidst it, flanked by my brothers, our breaths syncing in the rhythm of the pack.
I can feel the beast inside me simmering down, retracting its claws and fangs, giving way to the man who is now left to deal with the repercussions of its violence.
The moon bathes us in a cold, remorseless light as his gaze sweeps over the battlefield, a grim canvas of dark stains and unmoving forms. The night air is thick with the acrid scent of blood and gunpowder, a stark contrast to the quiet that has settled around them.
"More are going to come," Eli says, his voice a gravelly whisper, eyes darting to the trees, expecting shadows to jump out at us any minute.
I nod, the gravity of the situation sinking in. We took lives tonight. Blood coats my tongue. How did things go so wrong that it came to this?
It doesn’t matter though. This is how it is, and I will handle anything thrown at us.
But there, at the edge of my consciousness, a flicker of light pulls at me. A beacon in the darkness, calling me home.
Goldie.
Fear and concern for her crashes over me in a tidal wave, momentarily drowning the grim responsibility that comes with protecting my own.
"You guys handle this,” I give the order while already on the move, “I've got to check on her."
JJ nods. "Go, we got this."
I move with hurried grace, a looming figure swallowed by the shadow as I cross the broken boundary that separates Goldie's haven from the chaotic outside world. My heart pounds a frantic beat.
As the front door creaks open, there stands Goldie. Her face pale from what she witnessed. She looks so out of place amidst this chaos, a vision of vulnerability and softness amidst a backdrop of death and destruction.
When I get to her, she reaches out. Fingertips lightly brush over the scratches and bullet wounds on my skin. The gentle caress sends a shiver down my spine, contrasting starkly with the violence I've just experienced.
“Ted,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
She called me Ted. Not Tedly, Tedford, or Tedinator. She said my real name with a resigned finality that instantly makes me desperate to have her call me any of those silly, mocking nicknames. I’d rather she call me Teddy bear, as long as she called meherTeddy bear.
But the way she’s looking at me. . . dread consumes me without a single word.
I want to wrap her in my arms, tell her it'll be okay, and promise her that I can keep the danger at bay. But deep down, a nagging thought tells me that promises like these are easier made than kept. “Goldie, it will all be okay.”
She stares into my eyes, her gaze searching for something. Maybe for reassurance, maybe for a lie she can believe in, or perhaps she wants me to see the same painful truth she already has in her sights.
I open my mouth, desperate to find the words to convince her, to make her see that she's my anchor, my beacon of hope in a life filled with darkness. I scrounge and dig for those words I’ve done such a poor job of finding. Everything depends on me finding the right words to make this okay. If I don’t, I’ll lose her.
“Goldie. I told you, I started to tell you before how I don’t do relationships and it’s because I’ve never been able to afford to endanger anyone I care about with this.” I wave a hand at the carnage. “I wish I could say I can protect you like that, walk away, and make sure I don’t get close enough to you, so you don’t get caught in the crossfire of my pack’s problems.”
