The pack attacked him en masse, and he was only one goddamn wolf.
He was going to die.
My mate was going to die.
Blind panic had the ice in my veins dissolving in an instant and, shifting back, I wished, “I need a gun!”
It was there, in my hands after a split second, and thanking my father for the one thing he’d done right in my childhood—taught me how to shoot—I took aim.
I had to be careful because Austin was in the fray, and the wolves were a blurring, snarling pile of fur and growls and blood—Kali Sara, some of which belonged to my mate. Aiming at the back, at where I figured the weakest would be, I made a shot.
The second the gun exploded in my hands, the bullet snarling its way through the atmosphere to hit its target, the beast’s yelp sounded. It was high-pitched and loaded with pain, so unlike the snarl of rage of seconds before, that it was like night and day.
The creatures froze, and I had no choice but to pick off a few more, leveling the fight, even if I only injured them enough to back out of the match. Some I missed entirely, wasting precious ammunition.
When I pulled the trigger and the slide locked back, empty, I snarled, “I need a gun!”
And for the first time, I didn’t get what I asked for.
I stared down at the weapon, clicking the trigger uselessly and wishing, “I need bullets! Please!”
By this point, there were four wolves against my man, but the odds were more in his favor than before.
My heart was in my throat, and my stomach was in knots as I watched them tear strips out of his hide, ripping into bone and muscle like a knife through paper.
Fist against my mouth, terror in my veins, I watched as Austin released a howl so high and loud that it made my ears ring.
I knew what it meant.
He was sick of being attacked. This was the end.
Because I knew that, my heart slowed down a little, letting me breathe without feeling like I was going to choke.
I watched as his maw snapped around one of the wolf’s throats and he tore it out, and he treated the others to the same reward. Slicing through them as he pounced and nipped, leaped and fought for both our lives.
How had this place gone from paradise to hell?
When the alpha was the only one standing, I saw with relief they were both injured.
Because of the way they’d fought, I knew the beasts had to have been hurting each other to get to him.
A little like Ethan and Brandon had earlier, they circled around one another, trying to find a way in, trying to find a weakness, a means of survival.
The thought that Austin might die made me flop forward, my hands falling to my knees as the sheer notion gutted me like he’d been gutting some of those wolves.
I couldn’t live without him.
I couldn’t.
God, I loved him.
I loved him.
I needed him.
And I hurled that at him, mentally demanding he listen and hear me through his focus on besting the other wolf, as I cried, “I love you!”
Maybe that was all he needed to hear. Maybe it was like Ali goddamn Baba, but he pounced through the air and leaped onto the alpha. They tumbled and rolled, but within a minute, it was over.
Austin fell back as the alpha took his final breath, and I rushed over to him, watching as the other animals in the pack retreated to lick their wounds.
When I dropped to my knees at his side, I whimpered when I saw just how much damage there was.
“Shift back?” I pleaded, hoping that would heal him like in the books, but he just lay there, looking at me, and…
Fuck.
Was he going to die?
He couldn’t!
He just couldn’t.
No!
“I need you to save my mate,” I pleaded.
Nothing happened.
Again.
The blood stayed on his coat, he continued panting like he was winded, his eyes flickered like he wanted to drift to sleep, and I watched as he bled out onto the ground around us, staining the grass with the precious ruby liquid.
“Please,” I rasped, stroking my hand over his head before I shoved myself against him, coating myself in his blood just to get close.
“I’ll do anything!” I screamed. “Please!” I roared when I felt his breathing start to slow even more.
Terror flooded me in a way I hadn’t experienced since I was younger.