I stow the thought, the hope, and race after him, ignoring the dizziness spinning my head.
Bending to grab the makeshift bat on the way, I bludgeon past several moon-mad wolves on their knees.
The pack races around us, quick to scurry out of Grayson’s way. He’s the bulldozer to the center of the room, the wrecking ball making sure none of the others get within a few inches of me.
Until one does.
Teeth bared, I face the threat but this one is smaller, quicker than the rest.
When it drags its claws across my already injured thigh, pain sends my vision into a white haze.
The hit slices through muscles and heat sizzles in the wake of the wound, an agony around my leg.
White fades into black along the edges and I lift the wood, swinging it.
I make contact but the wolf heaves itself on top of me and takes us to the floor.
I’m going to puke.
I’m going to die.
I teeter between the eventualities and the wolf snaps for my face. A yip punctures its throat and its legs still shredding the air as it is yanked off me by Grayson’s superior strength.
I roll out of the way and catch myself on my elbows. Using the ground for support, I push myself to my knees, gritting down when they threaten to collapse.
Someone howls.
Glancing over my shoulder, Grayson fills my vision as he tosses the smaller moon-mad creature aside. Then I see a flash of a familiar pelt.
Jrue dashes past us, circling wide to avoid Grayson. His expression is clear even as a wolf, like he can’t believe a creature like that is protecting me.
Our gazes lock for a fraction of a second and I let him see me, fully. The face of a woman who could have run and didn’t.
Then Jrue takes off with claws curling over carnage and I refuse to follow where he went.
Pain and heat and voices rush over me. I push off the floor and brace against the wall.
My leg refuses to hold me.
I jump out of the way when the smaller moon-mad throws itself at Grayson, who catches it with a flash of fangs. His bulkblocks the rest of the room from entering our circle, like the boundaries of it are for some kind of sacred sacrifice.
I lean on the wood instead of using it as a weapon, limping toward the epicenter.
By the time we’ve made it through the throng, my heart races too fast and I’m covered in sweat. The madness.
I’m going down.
Grayson blocks another attack and I put my full weight on my good leg and swing. My arms shake so the hit lacks the power to bring the other wolf down.
It snarls at me and stands to its full height, fur and shadows dripping off its muscles.
It’s harder to exist when I catch a glimpse of Dad just beyond. At the dead center of the room.
Right where I thought he’d be.
Bodies of the fallen surround him and shift back to human with each death.
He fights as the largest wolf in the room but that also makes him a target.