Page 20 of Chaos At Second Sight

“Aye,” Uncle Knox agreed. “She’ll cheer up after a venison sandwich.”

A growl split the valley in two. Birds exploded from the treetops. Pinecones shook free from the branches overhead. The cheerful chatter died.

Lucien’s awkward, shy side was completely ripped away. This was the lycan, and to him, these werewolves weren’t a family rescuing a relative, they were usurpers of his territory—and they had just announced they were taking his mate away. An unacceptable concept.

My uncles accepted the challenge with eager snarls and cracking bones. Uncle Clyde’s broad frame folded into a massive russet wolf, and Knox and Angus followed, their pelts bristling as they spread out into a practiced formation.

“Okay, listen up!” I threw my hands out, body still vibrating from Lucien’s growl. “This is all unnecessary! He is my⁠—”

The word never made it out.

The moment Lucien whipped around to face them, his cheeky tail caught me full force. The impact launched me into a tree. Blood sprayed from my nose when my face smacked against the rough bark and something stung my neck. Pine needles rained on my lap and head as I crumpled down, landing on my butt, legs awkwardly bent at the knees.

“—mate.” I went unheard.

My family had just witnessed someone hurt me. The damage was done. Nothing could satisfy the MacKenzies but the annihilation of the one who harmed their niece. Mate or not. Accident or not.

If I were a human, I’d probably have a concussion, but the hit was nothing my hard werewolf skull couldn’t handle. Dragging myself up, I saw the insanity of my family facing off against my mate. And all because of a tail too long and a body too cumbersome.

“Get Yvaine!” Grandpa’s voice traveled from the slope.

Lucien assumed an attack stance, head forward, tail waving steadily.

My heart drummed in my chest, my breaths shortening. Blood still gushed from my nose, spilling over my hands, hot tears joining it. That’s when the swelling began. With my sweaty palm, I found my neck. There was a bump there and…a dead bee on my arm. Oh no. I tried to speak up but couldn’t.

Uncle Clyde burst forward while Knox and Angus started to close in from either side of Lucien. Grandpa was approaching my direction, slowly, while a shotgun blast thundered through the trees. Grandma.

Lucien twisted at the last second, pellets ripping through his shoulder instead of his chest.

Angus and Knox leapt and tackled him to the ground, but he slammed Knox’s head against a rock and elbowed Angus in the belly. Uncle Clyde closed his powerful jaws around Lucien’s shoulder and ripped. Lycan blood dripped from his mouth and stained his fur.

The stench of blood was unsettling.

“Are you okay, Knox?” Grandma called from her position, gun aimed.

Uncle Knox’s wolf spat out some blood and one molar but otherwise looked fine.

Meanwhile, Lucien was deadly, rabid. Slime dripped from his gums. His fur bristled. It didn’t matter that he had deep bite marks on his body or that he was severely outnumbered.

He growled so loud I was sure Archie could’ve heard him from Italy and charged, fighting nothing like a werewolf. He stayed low, shoulders hunched, claws spread wide, tail lashing behind him like another weapon. Every strike was wild.

But my uncles had years of practice and control. Innate killers with colossal wolves.

More lycan roars. More wolf snarls. Grandpa yelled, “Clyde! Watch out!” Then gunshots.

It all happened in mere minutes. I coughed, urging my healing to work faster while my family played diplomat in their ridiculous ways.

When they parted to reassess the situation, I croaked out, “All of you! Stop immediately!”

My voice froze everyone like an illustration—my uncles ready to pounce, Lucien about to snap, Grandpa sidling up to me. All of them glanced at me for a quick moment, then went right back to their stubborn animosity, like I wasn’t even here.

Uncle Clyde ducked beneath Lucien’s claws.

Uncle Knox crashed into his ribs.

Uncle Angus lunged again.

With another fit of coughs, I wheezed, “This…ridiculous…” Cough. “He…ma…te…”