the sight of her—but didn’t turn tail and run, like he should have.
Because she landed, claws out, right on his face.
He howled in pain, striking out on instinct—but Pauline had already pulled away, flapping back inside the window. When she looked out again, the wolf’s face was a bloody mask, and he was retreating back into the trees.
Drew, meanwhile, was in his young, rangy wolf form, crouched in front of the closet, ready to fight any larger, stronger adult wolves who might’ve come in to attack his siblings.
Pauline’s heart went out to him. She shifted back and came forward to touch his fur. “It’s okay,” she told him. “He’s gone.”
Drew hesitated—and then they heard the most beautiful sound Pauline had ever heard in her life.
Sirens.
***
Carlos
Carlos was caught.
He couldn’t get inside to help Pauline and the kids without bringing the other wolves with him. And it was taking every ounce of strength he possessed to hold off three opponents by himself—if he tried to take on another...
He had to trust that Pauline and Drew would be able to take care of it themselves. Even though he should be there.
The desperation he felt fueled a burst of ferocity, a roar building in his chest. His tiger exploded out of the three-way hold he was in. He was bleeding freely now, but he couldn’t feel it; adrenaline had forced any awareness of pain from his mind.
He crouched, facing three furious wolves, eyes darting from one to the other. He could see them bracing, wondering which of them it would be—
Carlos pounced. The weakest wolf went down underneath him, at least one leg out of commission from trying to brace against Carlos’ weight. The other two were on him immediately, of course, but he was ready to tear away and spin around to do it again—he didn’t know how many times he could do this before his injuries caught up with him, but—
A wailing sound split the night.
It took Carlos a long moment to process it for what it was: police sirens. At first it had sounded to him like the cry of yet another animal.
But no, that was definitely a siren.
And it was coming closer.
Thank God.
And then—even sweeter—Pauline appeared in the doorway, whole and uninjured and clearly worrying about him. She took in the scene, and Carlos met her eyes, trying to telepathically communicate stay back, stay safe.
Ryan reared back, eyes darting around to take in his two fallen pack members. Carlos saw him make the decision to abandon them and run. Those yellow eyes fixed on the dark woods behind the house, and Ryan swung around—
Carlos pounced again.
This time, he wasn’t aiming to hurt, maim, or even disable. He just wanted to keep Ryan right here. At the scene of his crime.
That was the tableau the flashing lights illuminated, as the sheriff’s Jeep pulled up to the scene, followed by the deputy’s car.
“Freeze!” came her echoing voice. “Everyone shift back to human, now.”
Carlos obeyed, backing away from Ryan’s wolf body—and stumbling as one of his legs threatened to give way underneath him. Pauline was at his side instantly.
“You’re hurt,” she said frantically. “Carlos—are you—”
“Fine,” he assured her, mostly sure that that was true. “Shifter healing. I’ll be all right. Nothing vital was hit.”
He was doing a quick self-assessment as he spoke, and he was reasonably sure that he was telling the truth.