Page 8 of Baiting the Werewolf

Now that I think about it, I hadn’t seen Jacob around for years. Eventually, I’d written him off as a figment of my imagination.

But watching him tear apart the werewolves surrounding him from all sides, I knew he was definitely real. Very, very real.

The rain makes everything more gruesome.

I should run, I know. I should be halfway to my car by now. But I can’t leave Jacob alone. Should I jump in? I try to move my legs, but they won’t cooperate.

So, I just stare at Jacob, who’s bigger than the other wolves, clawing one of them into submission. Then he turns to me and …winks?

Chapter Four

Logan

Tackling the werewolf that dared to think he could hurt my Wes, I crush his neck under my claws. I snatch the one trying to climb on my back with my mouth and throw him away. If I were even a second late… No. I’m here now. No one can hurt him. No one can even look at him the wrong way.

I put my full weight on the wolf. The pleading groan he lets out fills me with deep satisfaction. I bury my claws in his torso, sparing his life because I’m not done with him just yet.

Two more jump at me, and I give them my full attention after making sure this one won’t rise again. As I bite and claw my way out of the pile slowly forming over me, I notice Wes has decided to catch the show instead of retreating to safety.

I snort, injuring the werewolf closest to me as I lunge at another one on my side. If he wants a show, I’ll give him a spectacle he’ll never forget.

It takes me a second to realize my wolf, who likes to preen under Wes’s attention, has more control than I do.

A wolf takes my momentary distraction as a chance to swipe his claws against my leg. White-hot pain tears through me. I growl, sinking my teeth a little too close to his neck.

He whines and falls in defeat.

I turn to find werewolves sprawled all around me in various states of consciousness. I hope I didn’t actually kill any of them. Not that I’ll care. It’s just that the Bureau can be a bitch about these things. Something my werewolf doesn’t seem to care about.

My wolf sure hates all the wet fur, though, but at least the rain is washing away all the blood and grime.

I lunge at one of the two Nick is fighting and take him out.

Looking at the damage we’ve done, I remember why I really like this guy. He didn’t ask why I was running headfirst towards a bunch of wild wolves. Didn’t hesitate for a second. Just got to work and efficiently finished a task we were warned couldn’t be done without backup.

Well, with a little help from the good ol’ me, of course.

When they’re all down, my gaze shifts back to Wes.

Wide blue eyes focused on me. Not Nick. Just me.

He looks spooked, ready to run. But he hasn’t yet. We seriously need to talk about his self-preservation skills. Maybe I can even teach him a thing or two. Nick’s partner is a human who also works at the Bureau and constantly takes on werewolves. Maybe I can introduce him to Wes?

Wait, no. Wes is never getting within ten feet of the former serial killer, and frankly, a very scary person.

I blow out a breath. It comes out as a whine.

Wes startles like a spell just broke. But he still doesn’t run away. Why the fuck isn’t he running away? Right, he recognizes me. My werewolf is overjoyed by the idea.

I turn to Nick, who’s looking between Wes and me. He tilts his head in question.

No. We can’t shift yet. Wes can’t know.

But the werewolves around us are starting to stir. We need to inject them with anti-shifts before they decide they want to give it another go. I mean, I probably can, but I really don’t want to. I’m still bleeding slightly, and I’m very tired.

I take a step toward Wes and growl my most vicious growl.

His eyes go wider, if that was possible. But he remains frozen in his spot. Okay, he’s taking the freeze of the ‘fight, flight, or freeze’ response a bit too far. But I can’t really blame him here. I selfishly conditioned him not to be afraid of me.