Belarusian, or fucking Swedish for all I know. I watch him and call on the runes to increase my hearing. The naked shifter repeats whatever he just said to me, but I focus on the sounds around me instead of his voice. I don’t want to take my eyes off of him, but I need to make sure no one is sneaking up on Sabin and me from behind. The stranger takes a step forward, and I crouch automatically.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn him, and he stops.
Sabin cries out through clenched teeth, and the shifter’s eyes drop to him, confused. I want to comfort Sabin like I’ve done with all the others, but locked in this weird standoff with this guy, all I can do is lamely tell Sabin, it’s okay. I hear something moving fast toward me, and I flash a barrier over Sabin and me and prepare to have something slam up against it. Torrez’s massive charcoal-gray wolf leaps out of the trees and lands in front of me.
The second the naked shifter sees him, he also shifts into a wolf. This guy’s wolf is smaller, and his coat is primarily white and gray with touches of gold on his chest and his muzzle. They both flatten their ears, pull their lips back off their teeth, and release menacing growls at one another. They do this for what feels like a lifetime—but in reality is probably only twenty seconds—before they both stop and just stare unblinking at each other.
The tricolored shifter’s eyes move to mine for a fraction of a heartbeat, and another growl vibrates out of Torrez. The shifter’s yellow gaze snaps back to Torrez, and he lowers his head slightly like he’s apologizing. They face off like statues for another beat before the shifter turns around and trots away.
I drop my barrier, and Torrez moves in a circle around me, sniffing at the air and the ground before he comes back to me and rubs up against my side. My short swords disappear, and I shove my hands into his thick dark fur. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I try to calm myself down now that the immediate threat seems to have passed. Or at least I think it has, judging by Torrez’s sudden affectionate behavior. Bastien, Valen, Ryker, and Knox come running through the trees into the small little clearing, and Enoch, Kallan and Nash are right on their tail.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“Fuck, he’s fast.”
All sound off at the same time as everyone runs their gazes over me, Sabin who is clearly suffering on the ground, Torrez the wolf, and the woods all around us.
“I’m fine,” I tell Ryker, answering his question first. “A shifter showed up out of nowhere. He surprised the fuck out of me just when Sabin’s transference started,” I tell Enoch, answering his question, and I ignore Knox’s comment, figuring it was more a statement than anything that needs to be addressed.
“Where’s the shifter?” Valen asks, his gaze moving through the trees around us.
Torrez flashes from his wolf into himself, and it’s accompanied by groans and the others shielding their eyes.
“Come on, man, no one wants to see that,” Knox whines as he fixes his eyes on the sky.
“You could have warned us or something,” Bastien grumbles. I try not to laugh or stare too hard at Torrez’s dick or his muscles or at Torrez at all, because Sabin is on the ground suffering from our bond, and the last thing I should be thinking of is where to pin the dick on the Sentinel. Torrez turns to me with a smirk, and I want to punch him in his overly sensitive nose for always knowing what I’m thinking because of how I smell. Traitorous fucking hormones—or whatever it is that makes me smell.
“We’re on the edge of a pack’s territory,” Torrez announces, his heated eyes never leaving mine. “Muriel was patrolling when something about leaves caught his attention. I’m not sure what he meant; he has a pretty heavy accent.”
I snort at the name Muriel, and Torrez looks at me, perplexed. “Muriel,” I tell him, because really that’s explanation enough, but it’s clear he doesn’t get it. “Just seems like a funny name for a big bad wolf shifter,” I add. I look around to the other guys for support, but it seems I’m the only one amused by the revelation.
“Bunch of grumpy fuckers,” I mumble to myself.
“Anyway,” Torrez continues, gesturing to me