Ashcroft’s head snapped back, teeth lengthening, jaw stretching. His coat finally gave up, shredding at the shoulders. Fur burst through, silver and dark gray. His legs bowed, knees twisting, feet realigning into paws that slammed against the floor.
The room dissolved into chaos.
People lurched away from him, shrieking, dropping drinks, grabbing at each other. A few pushed toward the exits all at once, forming instant bottlenecks. Guards reached for weapons with hands that had never actually expected to use them in a crowded hall.
“Griff,” I shrieked.
He was already moving, cutting off the panicked crowd as they surged toward the main doors.
“Slow down! One at a time, move, don’t shove,” he barked.
“Elias, with me,” I said.
He fell into step without question, flanking me as I pushed forward, angling us between groups so we didn’t get caught in the tide.
Ashcroft dropped to all fours with a final cruel crack of bone and a last tear of fabric. For a second, he was still, crouchedthere on the polished floor, a massive wolf, fur bristling, eyes blown wide and wild.
It was clear that he had gone feral.
Dane chose that exact moment to push forward from the back of the hall, because of course he did. He was flanked by his men and moving like he was the hand of order returning to a room that had forgotten who controlled it.
“Contain that wolf!” he shouted, pointing toward Ashcroft. “Shoot if you have to!”
His goons drew their guns without a moment’s hesitation.
Ashcroft’s head snapped toward him like a compass needle finding north.
The wolf that had once been Ashcroft bared his teeth in a snarl that showed every one of them, strings of saliva hanging from his jaws.
Then he launched.
It wasn’t graceful.
But it was fast.
He hit Dane like an avalanche. They went down together in a tangle of coat and fur and flailing limbs. Dane got one hand up, reaching for the gun he hadn’t had time to aim. Ashcroft’s jaws closed on his throat.
The fight didn’t last long.
Blood sprayed across the polished floor, bright and shocking against the brass and marble. Someone nearby screamed again, higher, more ragged. Dane’s eyes went wide, then glassy, his fingers twitching once before going limp.
The nearest of Dane’s men fired.
The shot went wide, cracking into the wall behind him, showering dust and plaster. Ashcroft spun, jaws snapping, and bit the man’s shoulder, teeth sinking in, shaking hard enough that I heard bone give way.
Ashcroft finished tearing through Dane’s men with a brutal efficiency that made my stomach churn. They were trained, armed, prepared to hurt my people, and I still couldn’t enjoy watching them get ripped apart.
Ashcroft spun, sides heaving, muzzle red. For a heartbeat, his gaze swept the hall, looking for someone else to tear apart.
Then his feral gaze locked onto me.
Every instinct I had screamed.
I didn’t move.
“Hold,” I said, voice as calm as I could make it.
Ashcroft took a step toward me, paws thumping against the floor, lips peeling back from his teeth in a snarl that rolled through his chest.
