“Dad!”
The call splinters the wolf’s attention. It glances over its shoulder and I bring the wood up underneath its jaw, snapping bone. It growls and clutches his skull, giving me enough time to dart around it.
Dartis generous.
I walked away from my family, washing my hands of this pack and his crap. Now everything inside of me aches to get to him.
“Grayson, we have to help Dad!” I yell out in hopes it will make a difference, but Grayson shakes his head, snapping the neck of the wolf he’d bitten.
He lifts higher on his feet, slow enough to cause another gut-wrenching wave of anxiety, and I stop. My trembling fingers curlaround the wood before he cranes his head to the side and drops to all fours again, bounding off toward another moon-mad wolf.
There are dozens of them and all closing ranks around my father. He’s their target.
If Mom got Holly out, then I don’t have to worry about them. I have to focus on him.
No matter what happened, he’s still my dad.
Hobbling, I crack the wood against anyone who stands in my way. Which pisses them off more often than it does any damage.
Another moon-mad wolf fixes me with glowing red eyes, leaving skin and fur a trail on the floor in its wake.
Is there any way to come back from this? Once the damage is done?
There has to be.
These creatures were all people. Shifters. It’s not their fault any more than it’s mine.
Where does this end?
There’s no headway made between my pack and the dozens of moon-mad. But I keep Dad locked in my sight and push forward, swinging the bat until my muscles screech in protest and my ruined leg gives out.
The ragged whispers of voices circle the inside of my skull like vultures.
So close.
I’m so close.
You’re not strong enough to take on these wolves as a human.
Sweat burns when it drips into my eyes and I duck, avoiding the long-reaching swipe of claws. No, I’m not strong enough and I know it. But Grayson is right there leaving a trail of bodies behind him, and Dad is ahead.
The more Grayson fights, the harder it is to recognize the boy I’d lost inside of him. He loses more skin, his roars sharp and guttural and heartbreaking.
“Dad!” I reach my father, wondering if he’ll accept me or snap his teeth.
His eyes widen and his gaze lands on something past me. A low whine tears free and he jumps forward and nudges me out of the way in the same beat, forcing me behind him where my overworked body threatens to give out.
I drop, screeching when my injured leg falls on something sharp. But there’s Grayson and Dad, staring at each other, one heartbeat spanning into the next. Mine stops entirely.
Dad growls and his hackles lift, his tail a wide bristle of threat. He lifts a leg and takes a step toward his enemy.
My leg won’t move.
I try to drag it up, to move myself, to get between them. “No, Dad. No. He’s helping me. He’s protecting me!”
Dad doesn’t know Grayson is on our side. Like before, he doesn’t hear me, or the words don’t penetrate.
He doesn’t understand?—