The two wolves, huge and black as the night outside, snapped and clawed at each other, blood splattering across the floor as they made contact.
And Isaac had no idea which was which.
He’d lost track as soon as they shifted, the blur of movement confusing his eyes with his mind dulled by the effects of the serum.
They seemed evenly matched, for the most part, both covered in scratches and bites, but as Isaac watched, one of them seemed to get the upper hand. Teeth sank into the top of the other wolf’s shoulder, the answering cry echoing around the room as it stumbled and fell to the floor.
It wasn’t a killing blow, but it was incapacitating enough to allow the other wolf to close in, but as he moved for its throat, the wolf on the floor surged up, claws raking five deep gashes across its chest, opening up wounds so deep Isaac could see bone.
It stumbled back, legs giving out until it collapsed. Unmoving.
Silence.
Eerie after the roars and growls of seconds before, and Isaac held his breath, pulse racing, waiting for one of them to shift back.
No.
His heart dropped like a stone as the air shimmered for a split second, revealing Simon, lying on his back, chest heaving, hand clutching his shoulder, holding the skin together as blood seeped out of a wicked-looking bite mark.
But Paul didn’t move.
And he hadn’t shifted back either.
He lay on his side as blood pooled on the floor underneath him, matting his fur.
Isaac’s chest tightened, his wolf keening inside him at the sight of Paul’s broken body. He’d spent the last five years hating him and everything he stood for. Turned out he’d had his reasons for being the way he was, not that it excused his actions, but maybe Isaac had started to understand him a little better.
And he’d tried to save my life.
He watched, waiting for the smallest movement, any sign of life, but there was nothing.
He swallowed back rising panic because, out of the corner of his eye, he did catch movement.
Simon rolled onto his front and slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. His shoulder still gaped open, and blood dripped down his arm, but as he lifted his head and met Isaac’s eyes, a bloody smile spread across his face and Isaac knew that Simon was going to kill him.
He pulled at his restraints, frantic as adrenaline surged through him. The metal burnt into his skin, making him hiss, but it still wouldn’t fucking budge.
Simon stood on shaky legs, eyes so cold and full of hatred, and all Isaac could do was watch as he slowly made his way towards him.
* * *
Michael growledas the second room they tried turned out to be empty. “Why is it always the last fucking one?”
They had two left to search, and although he knew with his luck Isaac would be locked in the very last one, he still reached for the third door.
The doors at the other end of the corridor banged open and Rich burst through them. He skidded to a halt when he saw them, a flash of something in his eyes too quick for Michael to read before his expression morphed into one of relief.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed, smiling at Smith. “As soon as I knew what was happening, I tried to get back to the training centre to help you, but the rest of my team weren’t so keen.” He gestured to the gash on his forehead and the five claw marks down his right arm.
Smith hesitated, and Michael narrowed his eyes, his wolf unsure.
“Where were you?” Smith asked, taking a step towards him. Michael wanted to pull him back, still not convinced they could trust Rich, but Smith could handle himself.
And Michael needed to let him.
“We heard the explosions outside. Me and my team went to investigate. But then messages started coming in about attacks all over London, and I knew what was happening.”
Smith cocked his head to the side. “So you came back to help us?” Michael heard the hope in his voice, even though he kept his distance.
