Devan climbed higher in the mighty oak. The two groups were out of sight of each other, but close—thirty feet, if that. A gentle rumble shook the ground. At first, Devan thought he’d imagined it; then the lead wolves of the enemy disappeared, swallowed by the earth as a sinkhole opened beneath them.
Gods. But there was no spare heartbeats for shock and awe. In the time it had taken Zio to destroy the southern scouts, the northern forces had converged, breaking through the hedge barriers separating them, using the advantage of their downwind position. A flash of light. A shout. Growls filled the air as every wolf that was able shifted and charged into the fray.
The fighting was fierce. Blood scented the wind, filling Devan’s senses as a dozen shifters fought for survival. Zio’s team were outnumbered, but they had skill on their side. And Devan. He skirted the battle from his aerial position, leaping from tree to tree as he fought the urge to shift. Another enemy shifter fell, throat ripped out by a northern wolf Devan didn’t recognise in its animal form.Where’s their healer? Devan scented the air and reached out with the contact only another healer would notice but found nothing.
A northern wolf died, succumbing to catastrophic injuries before Devan could reach them.Who is it? Who is it? Who is it?It wasn’t Zio. But was it Bomber? Or Michael?Fuck this. I need to see them in their wolf form before they go out again.
Devan dropped to the ground. The fighting was fading. A northern wolf rolled in front of him, a deep gash to its neck. Devan healed it and moved on, trusting his abilities to keep the wolf safe from further attack.
A southern wolf fell at his feet. Instinct warred with pack, but a tortured howl pierced the air before either urge won.
Devan spun around. Four feet away, a brown wolf writhed on the ground, northern by scent. A southern wolf moved in to finish it off, but Zio’s black wolf, enhanced with his beta strength, appeared from nowhere. He pounced. The enemy wolf yelped, but the sound cut off, the wolf killed by a flick of Zio’s powerful jaws.
Silence hit the clearing, save the pained moans of the injured. The battle was over.
The sudden calm was oppressive. Devan moved through the aftermath, healing wolves with the northern scent, thankful every enemy wolf he came across had died of their wounds. Human footsteps replaced the tread of huge paws. Michael appeared, Danielo, and finally Bomber. All of them drawn to Devan, even as men, their wolves recognising Devan as their healer.
Other northern wolves drifted closer too, but before Devan could absorb that more of the pack—hispack—had accepted him as one of their own, a waft of blood hit him. Of torn flesh and mangled bone. He spun again. Two wolves were on the ground. Southern wolves. The enemy had left their injured behind.
Devan stepped forward.
Bomber caught his arm. “No.”
“They’ll die.”
“So? You think their healer is running around looking for our brothers and sisters to heal?”
“Who they are doesn’t change who I am. Whoweare. Besides, if I heal them, you can take them prisoner, no?”
“We don’t take prisoners.”
Devan shrugged out of Bomber’s grip and continued forwards. He crouched by the closest enemy wolf, a young female. “You didn’t have non-wolves in your pack either until recently. Things change.”
“Don’t touch that fucking wolf.”
Zio’s voice sent shivers down Devan’s spine. Somehow, Devan had missed him returning to the scene of the battle in his human form, but even with his back to him, he knew he was naked, sinewy muscles bunched with tension, fists clenched, dark gaze fiercer than ever.
Devan sat back on his heels. It had been easier to disobey Bomber. Technically, Zio was his superior, his beta, though Devan didn’t belong to his unit. “I can’t leave them to die.”
“Why not? They’d rip your throat out if they were capable.”
“I don’t doubt it, but the fight is over. Let me heal them.”
“No.”
“Zio.”
“Fucking leave it, Devan. It’s not your call.”
Devan didn’t need to hear Zio’s departing footsteps to know he was walking away.
Chapter Fourteen
“He’s still there, you know. Devan. He’s still sitting with them.”
Zio glowered. He didn’t need specifics from Michael to know what he was talking about. He knew Devan was still guarding the dying enemy wolves because his every sense was tuned to Devan whether he wanted it to be or not. And right now, he could’ve done without the mental image of the raw pain he’d seen in Devan when he’d refused him permission to be the shifter he’d been reborn to be. “He can sit there all night. Won’t do him any good.”
Michael said nothing, which was often his loudest voice.