THIS IS NOT A LABRADOR.
It is a six-foot Alpha in a service harness… and he thinks she is his mate.
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The ground vibrates beneath us. Heavy paws, too many to count, pounding the forest floor in a rhythm that vibrates up my legs. The Eustace pack is closing in. They’re way too close. Their fury hangs dense in the air, sharp and metallic, like blood.
My wolf snarls, urging me to turn, to fight, to make a final stand with teeth bared and throat open. To not go out like a coward.
Not yet.
Not here.
Not like this.
“Left!” I bark through the bond, veering sharply as a bullet snaps past my muzzle. Buff and Froggy follow without hesitation, skidding in the dirt as we leap over a fallen log and vanish into thicker brush.
The forest turns into a tight tunnel. Branches crack. Leaves explode. Paws shred the ground beneath us.
“We’ve almost lost them!” Buff yells.
He’s wrong.
I can smell their rage and bruised pride. Their determination. Eustace wolves don’t lose prey. They hunt until the prey is silent. Until the only sound is victory.
A shadow shifts ahead, and my stomach drops.
“Stop!” I shout.
It’s too late.
A net shoots up from the ground with a metallic snap, catching Buff mid‑sprint. He howls as the weighted mesh drags him sideways, rolling him across the forest floor.
“Buff!” Froggy skids toward him, triggering a second trap.
Silver‑lined cables whip out from two trees, snapping tight around Froggy’s legs. He hits the dirt hard, snarling and clawing at the wires that sizzle against his fur.
Did they herd us here?
“Hold still!” I lunge toward him.
A huge wolf, bigger than any shifter should be—bigger than me—launches out of the shadows and crushes me into the ground. I snap at him, my claws tearing at the earth, my wolf screaming at me to fight back, to tear the bastard’s throat out and kill him for what they are doing to Buff and Froggie.
But the weight is too much.
The wolf’s jaws clamp down on my shoulder with just enough pressure to warn, but not enough to kill. Yet.
Hot breath hits my ear as he growls a single command. “Shift back.”
I snarl in refusal.
His fangs sink deeper into my shoulder and pain flares, white‑hot and electric.
“Shift,” he growls again, his voice vibrating through my bones.
I fight it.
I fight it.
I ******* fight it.
But the hold tightens.
My wolf howls in pain, instincts buckling under the pure dominance of the wolf attacking me.
My body collapses inward, bones cracking as I’m forced back into my human form. I gasp as skin replaces fur. I’m cold and bleeding in the dirt underneath a wolf the size of a damn car.
Leaves crunch nearby, and then I see silver‑tipped boots.
Talon and Thorne Eustace step out of the shadows like a matched set of nightmares, their pack fanning out behind them.
Talon’s lip curls. “Well, well. The strays.”
Thorne cracks his knuckles. “And here we were hoping you’d run farther. The chase was starting to get fun.”
Buff and Froggy are both still tangled in silver‑mesh netting, panting and shaking from the pain.
I glare up at the twin alphas despite the wolf pinning me down, despite the blood running down my arm, despite every instinct screaming at me to submit or die.
“Go ahead,” I spit. “Take your victory lap.”
Thorne grins. “Who said anything about victory?”
Talon steps forward, crouching down so his face is level with mine. “This?” he says softly. “This is just the beginning.”
