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One of them broke from the others and ran at Lowell. Lowell covered his head with his arms and turned away, expecting the worst, but at the last minute, nothing happened. The wolf had stopped to scrutinize the approach of two more wolves.
They would never survive this assault. It was impossible, and yet Lowell could sense in his core that death was not going to own them today. The two wolves were larger and began stalking the other wolves, and the tension between them began to grow.
When the wolf charged at Lowell again, one of the newcomers, who looked strangely familiar, took him out, leaping on him and forcing him to the ground. It was fierce; the two were fighting the four, forcing them back and away from them. Lowell ran to Patrick, who was on the ground, bleeding from a wound on his left arm. John was standing over them with nothing but a piece of wood, swinging it side to side.
Lowell took off his t-shirt and tied it around Patrick's arm to stem the bleeding. Then, he took a stance next to John. He didn't have a weapon apart from his bear spray, so he held it ready. It wouldn't stop them, but it would slow them down.
The scene was unreal, and the beasts fought viciously, tearing at one another, violent and extreme. These were not normal wolves. Lowell's heart surged into his throat when one of the four broke from the pack and turned to them, charging at them with blood in its eyes.
He and John held their ground, standing over Patrick. It seemed like forever before the strike hit, although it was only a few seconds. Everything was happening in slow motion; time seemed to slow. The wolf was on them, raking its sharp, merciless claws across their soft flesh, and then suddenly, he was gone, tossed aside and torn apart.
He and John lay bleeding on the ground, still attempting to shield Patrick. Lowell opened his eyes to see the two large wolves finishing off the others, and then those two wolves turned into men. The one looked straight at Lowell, and when their eyes met, recognition hit, and he knew those eyes, his dream lover, had saved them.
Sean was utterly shocked when he and Eamon broke from the woods into the clearing to see four wolves attacking three humans. The humans were small and without weapons, and yet the three insane wolves were determined to kill them. Such an act was against the laws of the paranormal and was punishable by death. Self-defense or the defense of one's family were the only mitigating circumstances, and it was obvious that neither applied here.
A thick scent of violence and anger filled the air, making it clear that these wolves would not be reasoned with. He and Eamon went after the wolves, taking them to task and keeping them from the three humans. They hadn't intended to kill the wolves, but they left them no choice.
The rogues had already injured one of the humans pretty badly, and the other two were attempting to protect him. It was an impressive display of courage on the part of the small humans. Sean felt drawn to the little one with the dark hair and big green eyes. He had little to defend himself and his friends, but he did not slow down or falter. He stood tall and held his ground, and Sean thought he was the most handsome man in the world.
The odd attraction took him by surprise, but the draw was powerful. When one of the rogue wolves went after this beauty Sean nearly lost his mind. It was then that he began to understand the significance of this small man.
His blood spilled, and the scent hit the air, and Sean felt rage overtaking him. A swamp of pure fury drowned all other thoughts and concerns. He raced toward him and grabbed the bastard wolf who dared to harm him. Sean ripped him away, but not before the wolf tore into the young man. His pain and suffering drove Sean to the edge of insanity as he destroyed the wolf, tearing him limb from limb and howling to the depths of his despair.
Eamon finished the last of them and stood and watched as Sean annihilated the wolf who had attacked the man. Eamon shifted and called to Sean who moved toward him regaining his senses and then shifted to stand next to him.
"They're finished." Eamon declared. "We need to take care of the humans." Sean turned, and at that moment, his eyes met the eyes of the handsome young human. Surprise and pain filled the young man's gaze before he went limp and dropped down next to his friends.
“Do you think he knew what he was looking at?” Eamon asked as Sean rushed to the little human and lifted him into his arms. This man was his responsibility.
“Call for assistance and stay with them.” Sean indicated the two men still lying unconscious at their feet.
“What about him?” Eamon nodded toward the man in Sean’s arms.
“He’s mine Eamon. He’s my mate." He said, and shock exploded across Eamon's face.
"Damn, I'm sorry Sean. I'm sorry he was hurt." Eamon seemed to think he should have done more, but they did all they could at the time. "I recognize these four. They're followers of Jaron." He pointed to the one Sean had killed. "That's Cory, an enforcer mentored by Jaron, and the others are pack members. The man is driving people to do madness."
“It will likely continue until a leader is chosen. Someone needs to take the helm and soon.” Sean retorted.
“Take him home and I’ll meet your there after I make some sense of this mess.” Eamon began to howl calling for his brother wolves and soon his howl was returned and movement in the forest signaled their approach. Sean took off as Eamon bent to tend to the two humans.
Sean pulled the man tight to his body, holding him secure as he raced through the forest to the house on the lake. He wasn't thinking clearly and acting sporadic, but that was the effect of meeting his mate in the middle of something horrific. So many problems could arise, not the least of which was the fact that his mate saw him shift.
His mate’s blood was driving Sean out of his mind. He could hear his heart beating and his breath was slow and steady and it was the only thing keeping him somewhat clear-headed and logical. His mate needed him, and he needed him to be stable and focused, not caught in a frenzy of emotion.
The other two humans would be taken to the hospital, and Eamon would weave some sort of explanation for their condition. Not wanting to raise fears of killer wolves in the forest, he would probably steer them in the direction of bears or bobcats. There were no bear or bobcat shifters in the area, so there would be no danger of one being shot by an overzealous human.
He dashed up the steps of the deck and entered through the sliding glass doors. He took several deep breaths drawing in the sweet heady scent of his mate and letting it calm and center him. Looking down into the man’s face he felt his heart tremble at the exquisiteness even in the midst of this blood and terror, he looked both serene and striking.
He let himself take it in the importance, the difficulty, the magnificence of what lay before him. Human mates were rare where he came from so he was not certain how to move forward but he trusted Fate to show him the way.
CHAPTER THREE
“They’re dead.” The young wolf reported.
“Cory killed the humans trespassing on our land?” Jaron snapped at him.
"No, Cory and the others, four in total, they're all dead." Jaron took the cup of coffee he was holding and threw it across the room, striking the wall and smashing it into pieces, and narrowly missing the young wolf.
