Were with the cat-like green eyes that had once stalked me like prey, hunger glittering in his gaze as he approached me. He’d stopped in that stinking alley, leaving me alone only because Chaz had been there to protect me. He’d been there during the fight against Max Carlyle in Royce’s basement, too, though there had been too much going on at the time for him to be a danger to me. This time, there were no distractions, and Chaz wasn’t here to stop him from attacking me.
My fingers practically split the wood of the cabinet as I grabbed the door to pull myself up off the floor.
Dillon watched me from his crouched position, lips pulled back on that dog-like muzzle to bare yellowish fangs. Triangular ears were pricked forward as he took a careful step closer, pausing as his claws dug furrows into the wooden floorboards.
Panting with terror, I reached for the closest thing to hand—the coffee pot—and held it out in front of me in warning. Comical, perhaps, but it was the only thing within reach that I could use to defend myself.
Nick voiced another low growl, and I had to stifle a scream as he reared up beside me. I arched back against the countertop as he bumped his head on the ceiling, grimacing and baring his teeth in a remarkably human expression of pain. Both clawed hands came up to cradle his skull, rubbing where he’d struck it.
Even in this form, he still had the piercings I remembered seeing on his brows, nose, and ears. When he tugged the tatters of his shirt off his chest, nipple piercings remained, too. I didn’t dare peek lower to see if he had any others.
I flinched back when he leaned toward me, thrusting the coffee pot at him. He jerked back, then gave me a cursory sniff. Apparently satisfied, he turned away and lumbered toward the door, casting a glance at Dillon, who was still watching me with the intent hunger of a predator.
Dillon crept closer as Nick got out of the way, stalking forward on all fours. Panic at being trapped beat at my breast, and I frantically searched for some way—any way—out of this mess.
Nick growled, and Dillon froze. The pair looked at each other, ears flattening and lips lifting in threat, though now they made no sound.
Another howl split the air, this time much closer, from somewhere outside. As Nick turned to look, Dillon leapt at me.
I screamed, hurling the coffee pot at him in reflex. It struck a glancing blow on his snout before falling to the floor and shattering.
Just before Dillon reached me, though he was close enough for me to feel the fetid wash of his breath across my face, Nick knocked him off course and into the wall. Hot pain stung my arm, but all I knew was terror in that moment, and I skittered back as far as the tiny kitchenette allowed. The pair of wolves grappled, snapping and snarling at each other, claws soon wet with blood.
Unable to cope, I sank to my knees, clutching my arms around my chest as the two thrashed and fought. They crashed into the bed, shoving it into other furniture hard enough for wood to audibly crack. Nick thrust his jaws under Dillon’s, closing on the black Were’s windpipe as they rolled into the table, snapping one of the legs and sending the chairs tumbling to the floor. Nick soon had Dillon pinned on his back, his teeth digging tight into the fur and cutting off any hope of Dillon’s gaining the breath to fight back.
Though Dillon’s claws raked over his chest again and again, Nick didn’t let go. I flinched as one of his nipple piercings rolled across the floor and struck my shoe, leaving behind a tiny spatter of blood. Eventually, Dillon subsided, stilling under the golden-furred Were.
Once he stopped fighting, Nick released him, backing up a few paces. Nick bared bloodied teeth, keeping his amber irises locked upon the gasping, choking Were before him.
Dillon remained on his back for a few minutes, furred chest heaving as he regained his breath. Soon he rolled onto all fours, keeping his body low to the ground and his tail between his legs as he crept closer to Nick. His lips and ears were drawn back, though he didn’t show any teeth, and he only lifted his head long enough to lick Nick’s muzzle with a few swipes of his tongue.