Thump, thump, thump.
Go back.
Thump, thump, thump.
His stride elongated, finally settling into four legs and a heart made for endurance.
Go back. Go back.
Thump, thump, thump.
Go back!
Without realizing it, he’d circled back already, nearly tearing through the tree line and into the clearing where Jaime’s cabin stood before he halted, breaths coming in heavy puffs. He shook, but stilled when he sensed something was off.
Smell.
Silas wasn’t in his truck. He could smell him nearby, but it wasn’t his human form. Silas had shifted, which meant something was wrong.
Listen.
He could make out a low, rumbling growl—Silas—and a slightly whinier response. A wolf, but not someone he recognized. He was a split second away from circling around to the back of the house to help, when he saw it.
One of the Salt Creek wolves that had been there yesterday stepped out from the tree line across from where Finn was hiding, still fully shifted. The intruder remained on two legs, but his limbs were elongated, with talons extending from his fingers, and his lips were pulled back to show his prominent canines. A partial shift. In a few strides, the intruder was across the lawn and kicking down Jaime’s front door.
Finn reacted without thought.
Leaping across the lawn, he threw himself inside the busted-open front door and tore through the living room. Shouts were coming from Jaime’s bedroom, so he flew up the stairs, shifting as he climbed, and landed on the top step. Two elongated legs carried him down the hall and through Jaime’s bedroom door in a blink, which had also been torn open ahead of him.
A howling shout left him at the sight of Jaime, eyes wide in terror and shock, backed up against the far wall as the intruder lunged across the bed, claws outstretched.
With speed he never knew he possessed before now, Finn hooked a clawed hand around the attacker’s throat and yanked him back, hard, slamming him into the wall opposite Jaime, denting the drywall and pinning him with a snarl.
“I’ll rip out your goddamn throat for this!” His words were thick through his canines, like he was chewing on them.
The shifter sneered at him. “Oh, so Silas’s little half breed friend has a backbone, does he?”
Finn ignored him. Before he had time to consider how to get the other shifter away from Jaime, Silas thundered up the stairs and burst into the room.
If he was a mountain of a man in his human form, Silas was truly massive in his partial shift, nearly seven feet tall and thick as a tree trunk. Between his sheer size and the overwhelming anger and dominance that radiated off of him in this form, the wolf that Finn still had pinned to the wall cowered.
“I’ll take care of him,” Silas snarled. He reached a clawed hand over and grabbed the intruder by the scruff, pinning his hands behind his back.
Finn stepped back to block Jaime from the danger. “The other one?”
Silas snarled again. “Gone. He took off when you showed up. They must have followed me here and waited until you left.”
“Are there any more of them?”
“None that I can smell in the area. Sheppard is on his way, he should be here in about ten minutes.” Silas yanked the Salt Creek wolf out of the room, leaving only Finn and Jaime.
Waiting until the sound of their combined footsteps faded down the stairs and out the front door, Finn kept his back to Jaime, trying to slow his breathing and prepare himself for the fear and disgust and hate he would certainly see on his face.
But then Jaime made a small sound that had Finn’s wolf whipping his head around, ears perked and zeroed in on the noise.
While he did see shock and fear, there was no disgust or hate in Jaime’s eyes.
Instead, he saw wide-eyed wonder as he peered up at Finn, their height difference even more exaggerated in this form. Jaime remained plastered against the wall, palms splayed at his sides, but his shoulders relaxed when Finn turned toward him fully.
