Cole’s screams snapped him into action, and Logan bolted for the bathroom to find the wolf dragging Cole out by his ankle.
“Help!” Cole yelled, frantically trying to grab onto anything as he kicked out at the wolf with his other leg. His two black belts were useless against the strength of a crazed shifter in wolf form. Cole’s gaze landed on Logan, eyes going wide. “Logan!”
The wolf turned to face him, letting go of Cole and baring its teeth in Logan’s direction.
Did he shift or stay human?
As if his body decided for him, Logan felt the change moments before it took hold. The pain was sharp and fierce but over in seconds. His shoulder ached, the shift into his wolf form undoing some of the healing, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the wolf in front of him.
He was a big fucker.
Logan hadn’t seen all of Paul’s team in their wolf skins, but he had a pretty good idea who this one was. Big, strong, and without much of a conscience. He’d kill Logan without a second thought given half a chance; there’d be no bringing him in to face their alpha.
The wolf charged and so did Logan, and they collided at the top of the landing, the force of it jarring his bones.
A whimper escaped as it wrenched his damaged shoulder, but Logan fought to ignore the pain. He couldn’t die here, couldn’t let them take Cole back and force him to join their pack.
Movement out of the corner of his eye told him Cole was alive and mobile, thank fuck, but if he’d seen it, then so had the wolf. It spun, lunging for Cole, but Logan was quick to barge him off course, barrelling the two of them down the stairs in a tangle of limbs.
They landed at the bottom, winded momentarily, but Logan was slower to get up. He got to his feet only to find himself being pushed back into the far wall, teeth buried in his injured shoulder.
A pained cry tore from his throat as the wolf sunk its teeth in further, sensing victory. Logan struggled to bite or scratch anything in reach, but the other wolf let go of him, dancing out of the way. Blood matted Logan’s fur, the wound already healing, but slowly. His body had its work cut out healing that and the bullet wound.
The wolf backed away, pacing in front of him, gaze running over Logan’s body as it assessed the damage it had inflicted. Its bloodied lips curled up into a sneer, as though laughing at the way Logan held his leg slightly off the floor.
Come on, then. Logan curled his lip in return, baring his teeth.Finish me if you fucking dare.
If this was it, then he was bloody well taking this arsehole with him. At least Cole would have a chance to escape.
I should’ve told him where he needed to get to.
The wolf charged, a feral growl filling the hallway, and Logan braced himself, ready.
Dodging at the last minute, the wolf caught his teeth in Logan’s back leg, but Logan buried his fangs good and deep in its side, tearing at the flesh with every ounce of strength in him.
Blood filled his mouth, spilling down his chin as he limped out of the way. The other wolf howled out in agony, snarling as it spun to face him. Logan snarled back, ready.
They faced off, fangs bared, and Logan embraced the wildness of his wolf as it rose to the surface, instinct taking over.
Kill or be killed.
The gunshot was deafening in the small space, startling them both.
Logan tensed, expecting the sharp bite of a bullet, but nothing happened.
He watched in confusion as the grey wolf in front of him collapsed to the floor, blood trickling from a bullet wound to the chest. But unless it’d hit the heart, it wouldn’t be fatal.
Taking his chance, Logan leapt forward, teeth sinking into the wolf’s neck as he ripped its throat out, killing it instantly.
Blood dripped down Logan’s muzzle and onto the hardwood floor, the only sound in the sudden stillness. He sank back against the wall, changing into his human form, and finally looked to see who’d shot the gun.
Sat on the bottom step of the stairs, with the gun cradled in his lap, was Cole. His whole body seemed tense, poised to react at any second.
Probably all the adrenaline running through his system.
“You want to put that down?” Logan asked gently, pointing to the gun—one of his pack’s standard-issue firearms. The wolf he killed earlier must have dropped it when he shifted.
Logan’s mouth tasted of blood and other disgusting things he tried not to think about. He wiped it with his hand and spat on the floor before trying to stand. “Sorry,” he whispered, balancing himself against the wall. “He left a nasty taste in my mouth.”
