Kevin and Marty came for me first. Their stances were low. Fists tightly balled. They looked dangerous. They meant business. I could tell. I meant it too. The second they came within striking distance, I exploded into action. Kevin drew his arm back, but I saw him coming. I blocked his punch with my left arm and returned it with a punch of my own. One that made contact. One that was hard enough to make him take several steps back. While he was subdued, I hit Marty square in the chest, winding him thoroughly. I was dimly aware that Llewellyn was almost on Jules. Jules was strong, but Llewellyn was older and thus probably stronger. I turned to defend him and as I did it, Keith swung the pipe at my head. It was a solid strike. I felt metal connecting with bone. My skull cracked on impact. I was stunned for a second and in that second, he struck again. And again. Bone splintered. Blood gushed. A warm, hazy feeling flooded my brain. As I crumpled to the ground, Marty and Doug each grabbed one of my arms and held me up.

I twisted to see Jules through the fog. Llewellyn had him in a chokehold. Jules was fighting. Kicking and clawing, but he couldn’t get free. I think I would have been filled with despair then but my injury had left me cut off from my emotions. Everything seemed to move slowly. It all seemed far away. I was almost at peace.

Almost. But not quite. The peace was shattered by a sound that came from Jules. Despite being restrained, Kevin had hit him. Jules’s bottom lip split and blood trickled down his chin. At the same time as I saw it happening, I heard a sickening crunch, a fist against teeth, a sharp gasp, and then a thin, piercing cry. A cry that came from deep inside Jules. The sound went through me. It cut through muscle and bone. It shot up my spine. It spoke to my soul.

Your mate is hurt, it screamed.