“I’m here,”he said across the bond, pressing his head under Johnny’s belly to guide him to the ground. Johnny whimpered as Taylor stood over him, barking and snarling as red started to cloud his vision.
Just red.
All red.
Only red as the three remaining wolves picked themselves up, dropped their heads and zigzagged menacingly towards him.
He didn’t care. He didnotcare, because if they made another move to hurt Johnny he would kill them, of that he’d never been so certain. Fuck his guns, fuck PAVA, fuck batons, because if they even so much as touched another hair on Johnny’s head he would rip them to shreds with his teeth.
Taylor crouched low, his belly pressed to Johnny’s back as saliva dripped from between his fangs.
“Taylor!” someone called. “Tay!”
It was Wendy, and when Taylor blinked he realised she was sitting on someone’s back with her hand jammed into the pressure point behind their ear. The only way to prevent someone from shifting.
She flung her head in the direction of the alleyway, and before Taylor could react two more people came barrelling into the clearing. Amil ran head first into one of the wolves, smashing his baton across its shoulder blades. Isla yelled as she kicked another in the gut before taking out the third by emptying an entire can of bite-back spray into its face.
“John-Paul!” she cried, dropping the can and running towards them.
It re-triggered the fight response in Taylor’s brain, making his wolf take over again.
“Threat, threat, threat,”it said, trying to pull itself free from Taylor’s control. He could feel it seething, pushing the human part of Taylor’s brain away. Except… there was something—something he hadn’t felt before. His wolf’s aggression… the anger dipped into fear and right back into anger again. It was unstable, like him, and right now it didn’t know whether to attack or back down.
Uncertainty.
Taylor sucked in a breath. “It’s okay,”he said, trying to calm his wolf rather than fight it. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Friend. Friend. Friends.”
His wolf thrashed, pressing its weight harder onto Johnny just so it could feel his warmth. Johnny whined, his head rocking from side to side as he tried to roll over.
“Taylor!” Isla called, baton clutched to her side. “Taylor, it’s okay! It’s okay! You can stop. We aren’t going to hurt him.”
He could feel Johnny trying to send reassurance across the bond. It was weak, but warmth trickled in behind Taylor’s eyes and eased the tension in his chest.
“It’s okay,” Isla said, raising a hand as she edged closer. “It’s alright. It’s okay now, he’s safe. Help is here”
Taylor’s eyes flicked around the courtyard. Six wolves down, Wendy, Isla and Amil all in human form, sweating and breathing hard and looking at him like he might be about to take them all out.
A light breeze ruffled his fur, wafting the scent of blood into his nostrils.
“Taylor…”Johnny’s wolf coughed around a mouthful of blood. It pawed weakly at Taylor’s chest.
Vulnerable, Vulnerable. Mate is vulnerable.
“Taylor Campbell, will you put your fucking fangs away!” Amil yelled, nostrils flaring as he threw a can of bite-back spray at Taylor’s head. It bounced off his thick skull, clattering to the ground and rolling back towards Amil. The omega’s eyes were wide, scared, but something about his berating familiarity drained all the fight out of Taylor in an instant.
Isla let out a shaky breath, placing her baton back in its holder. “Place cuffs on these fuckwits and get PC Ateba in the Ranger. There’s no chance in hell I’m waiting for an ambulance.”
Everything else was a blur—the others heaving Johnny into the back of the truck with Taylor lying over him, Falkington officers arriving, the drive to the hospital, guiding Johnny into a padded room so they could both curl up together as doctors attempted to check their wounds.
Attempted. Because they were wound so tightly together they couldn’t treat either of them properly. It wasn’t until the frosted glass door clicked shut and people stopped coming in that the tension finally eased in Taylor’s shoulders.
Shit, everything hurt. Everything. Fucking. Hurt. It felt like someone had smashed a cricket bat across his face, his muzzle and skull tender every time he moved.
Johnny’s breathing was deep, slow, his ears flicking every now again as the healing sleep took hold. Taylor huffed and licked his mouth, washing away the blood that had crusted around his nose. He ran his tongue under Johnny’s lips, trying to feel if there were any teeth missing. There were. Two at the back.
He nuzzled Johnny’s chest, licking him from head to toe, scent marking every inch of him until he was satisfied that Johnny smelled of him and only him.
Johnny’s eyes peeled open as Taylor licked between his paws. He had a nasty cut to one of his pads, the middle claw cracked and torn almost clean off at the quick. He’d feel that. Even in human form he’d probably have a black fingernail, and that was before Taylor even got to the bloody mess of his front leg.
