his gaze and stance showed he didn’t think she had a chance.
She shifted to wolf and assessed him. He was almost as big as Tynan—and not nearly as muscular. She circled him once, then again, her haunches tightening. Compensating for her weak ankle, she sprang upward, paws landing on his chest, jaws angled exactly right for her teeth to close on his throat. She bit down hard enough to let him know he was dead and leaped away.
“Gods blast it.” Staggering back, he stared at her and then grinned. “Perfect kill, banfasa.”
“Agreed. Good job, Margery,” Patrin called. From the front, he watched as others attacked, kills were made. He, Fell, and Tynan instructed as needed.
When everyone was warmed up, Patrin resumed. “Today, the lessons are about teamwork. One wolf will divert the prey’s attention while another wolf attacks. Tynan and Fell will demonstrate as we go over the techniques.”
“Patrin,” Jody yelled, “if one wolf is enough, why use two?”
“Good question. Honestly, if your target is unwary, not looking for trouble, unarmed, you should have no trouble. Watch now.” Raven-black hair gleaming in the sunlight, Patrin sauntered across the low hillock, looking like the typical hiker. “See how easy a target I am?”
Everyone nodded.
“However, if you’re up against a soldier…” He picked up a rifle from the ground. His muscles tensed. His alert gaze swiveled over the area. Each balanced step showed him ready to fight. “…how effective will you be?”
“Liable to get perforated with bullets before we get within ten feet,” Van answered.
“Exactly.” Patrin moved toward the brush. “Wolves are excellent stalkers—and a human’s peripheral vision sucks. Unfortunately, a throat kill means attacking from the front where your target can use a weapon.”
“Got it,” Jody said. “So, distracting him is the answer.”
Patrin pointed his finger at her. “If I had an army, I’d recruit you.” He addressed the rest of them. “We’ll teach an effective two-wolf method today. However, anything that distracts your target and points his rifle away from the attacking wolf will work.”
“Tynan, play a Scythe soldier. Fell, you’re the attack wolf. I’ll be the diversion wolf.”
Tynan walked over and accepted the rifle.
As Patrin stripped and changed to wolf, Tynan crossed the rise, walking slowly, cautiously. All senses aware. His posture reminded Margery far too much of the Scythe guards, and she shivered.
Patrin slipped out of the bushes, stalking him from behind. Off to Tynan’s right, Fell moved silently through the undergrowth.
Patrin charged, jaws closing on Tynan’s left rear thigh.
With a yell, Tynan turned to the left, swinging his rifle around. Even as Patrin darted away, Fell leaped at Tynan’s vulnerable neck.
Off balance, Tynan fell. And as Fell pretended to rip his throat out, Tynan died…dramatically.
Hoots and whistles and yips ran around the clearing.
Grinning, Jody nudged Margery. “Wanna team up and take Van down?”
Still seeing Tynan falling, dying, Margery had to force herself to smile. “Sounds good.”
Her gaze returned to the rise where Tynan was coming back from the dead. She couldn’t keep from scrutinizing his clothing for blood, watching his expression for signs of pain.
When had he come to mean so much that the mere thought of him being hurt was intolerable?
Oh, she was in so much trouble.
Chapter Eighteen
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - waning crescent moon
Tynan sniffed the air, breathing in the aroma of steak on the grill. Wildwood Lodge’s Sunday party had chosen a menu that shifters would love. Meat and lots of it.
Although he’d never say no to one of Bree’s desserts.
Since his alpha was stuck manning the grill, Tynan took him a beer. “Anything you need me to do?”
“Thanks—and nope.” Shay smiled. “Enjoy your day off.”
“Will do.” Who wouldn’t enjoy a sunny afternoon and a party of shifters having fun?
He dodged two teenaged cubs on their way to the soccer game, sidestepped a bevy of females comparing notes about a well-endowed male, and paused at the chess table where Thorson was locked in battle with the blademage Gawain.
Gawain was winning, much to Thorson’s annoyance.
Every other Sunday during summer, the lodge held a party—one that drew the humans and Daonain in the community together. It was difficult to classify someone as “other” after sharing a beer and laughing together at youngling antics.
Considering the carousing on the mini-playground Zeb had built, there was more than sufficient youngling activity to enjoy.
Tynan spotted Meggie applying a bandage to little Luke’s knee and giving him a hug…which he enthusiastically returned. Tynan smiled. She said her contentment came from being surrounded by people she could help. Being accepted.