She takes off sprinting toward the clinic entrance. I move to intercept the nearest male, putting myself between them and her.
The first one comes at me with a knife. I dodge the blade and drive my fist into his gut. He doubles over, and I bring my knee up into his face. The crunch of his nose breaking is satisfying.
Two more rush me from opposite sides. I duck under one’s swing, catch the other’s wrist, and twist. The knife clatters to the ground, and I sweep his legs out from under him.
But there are too many of them.
A chain wraps around my ankle, and I’m yanked off balance. I hit the ground hard, rolling just in time to avoid a boot to the face. I grab the chain and pull, bringing the male holding it crashing down beside me.
I’m on my feet again, fists flying. Blood spatters across my knuckles. Someone else’s. Mine. I can’t tell anymore.
A blade slices across my forearm, and I hiss at the sting. But it’s already healing, my shifter blood knitting the wound closed.
I’m holding my own. Barely. But I’m holding.
Wren screams, and I turn toward her. Ice floods my veins.
One of them broke through. A big bastard with a shaved head has Wren locked in his arms. She’s fighting, kicking and clawing at his face, but he’s too strong.
He’s dragging her toward the clinic entrance.
“No!” The word rips from my throat.
My dragon roars inside me, a sound of pure rage that makes my body shake.
I launch myself at the group between Wren and me, abandoning any pretense of defense. I just need to get to her. Need to stop them.
A fist connects with my jaw, snapping my head back. Another blow catches me in the ribs. Then another. And another.
They’re beating me down, and I can’t stop them. Can’t get through.
Wren’s screaming my name now, terror in her voice.
The male has her at the clinic door. He’s trying to drag her inside.
What are they planning? What the fuck do they want? I hate each answer I get more than the last.
My dragon is going insane inside me, clawing to get out. The pressure is building, building, until I can’t contain it anymore.
I can’t help it.
I can’t stop it.
My bones start to crack and reform. My skin splits, and scales push through. The shift is happening, whether I want it to or not.
My last coherent thought is a desperate plea.
Don’t hurt Wren. Please don’t hurt her.
But I know it’s useless. My dragon is feral. He won’t listen. He can’t. He’s an animal intent on maiming and killing.
The last of my humanity is ripped away.
The beast takes over, and all I know is rage and blood and the need to destroy everything in my path.
Her included.
13
