The lead wolf is massive. Silver-gray coat. Alpha energy radiating. He hits the nearest operative with enough force to break the man’s spine.
Nadia’s alpha. Her pack. They came.
Thank fuck!
The pack spreads out, each wolf targeting specific threats. Moving with a coordination that speaks of years of training together.
The silver wolf positions itself beside me. We face the remaining operatives together.
Her alpha. Fighting beside me. For her. Because she asked.
The recognition settles something in my chest. This is her family. Risking their lives because they trust her judgment. Because she called and they answered.
An operative aims at the huge male’s exposed flank. I breathe fire. The man goes down screaming.
The wolf lunges at a dragon coming at me from behind. Jaws close on dragon throat. They tumble in a tangle of scales and fur.
We move in sync. Dragonfire and wolf speed. I clear threats from his left. He guards my right. When I’m forced to ground by concentrated fire, he draws attention away. When he’s pinned by three operatives, my talons scatter them.
The other wolves are equally devastating. They work as a unit. Cover each other. Exploit openings. Seasoned fighters who’ve trained together for years.
One wolf—a female with a dark coat—takes out the black dragon with speed I can barely comprehend. Another—a stocky male—coordinates with the alpha to corner armed operatives.
This is pack tactics. Synchronized. Efficient. Beautiful.
Through the bond, I feel Nadia yet again. She’s closer now. Fighting her way toward us, still safe. Relief floods through me.
More Syndicate operatives arrive. More dragons shift. The balance shifts again. Twenty more. Too many, even with the wolves’ support.
One operative keys his radio. I hear him clearly. “Requesting immediate support. Heavy casualties. Need aerial reinforcement. ETA?”
Static. Then: “Five minutes. Gunship inbound. Hold position.”
Five minutes until a heavily armed helicopter arrives. With the firepower to kill all of us.
We need to evacuate. Now.
But we’re still surrounded. Still fighting. The rescued prisoners are somewhere behind us. Kaylin needs immediate medical attention. Nadia is fighting toward our position through enemy forces.
The alpha shifts partially. Human face with wolf features. “We need to go!”
“Captives,” I call back, my voice dragon-rough. “Behind the building. And my—” I stop. Can’t say mate. “Nadia’s still getting them out.”
“She has help,” he growls, then shifts full wolf again, howling orders to his pack.
They disengage, making a coordinated retreat. Each wolf covering others. Moving toward where the rescued captives should be.
I follow. Still in dragon form. Still fighting off operatives who pursue. Looking for Nadia through the chaos.
Then the world explodes.
The blast comes from the main building. Massive. The structure erupts outward in fire and debris. The shockwave hits, and I’m thrown. Wings torn further. Slammed into the ground. Pain sears white-hot through my entire body.
Through the bond: fear. Not from me. From her.
Nadia.
I try to stand. Can’t. My right wing is destroyed. Ribs broken. Blood everywhere.
