Long after we were both competent cyclists, he kept an eye on us. He gently refereed fights about whose turn it was on the bike and spent ages teaching us the art of taking turns. I saw that man before me. I had his submission, as well as that of the scared shitless shifter that trembled before me. It was enough. I didn’t need his life. I stared him down hard and when he was whining in terror, I said, “Shift!”

He did. His body shook until it went blurry and, in a flash, he went from man to wolf. He had no time to undress, so hs wolf was tangled up in his clothes. It looked confused. It struggled and then rolled onto its back, hind legs kicking reflexively as his eyes flashed white with fear.

“Stay,” I said. He stopped moving instantly. Frozen, like some sort of sculpture of a wolf in man’s clothing.

Jules was at my side. His hands were on me. My vision faded to normal. My blood ran thick and slow. It felt like I had cotton wool in my ears. And in my head. And in my mouth, too. I rolled my tongue in my mouth but couldn’t form words. My vision went fuzzy. I felt hot. My head felt hot. It wasn’t pain exactly, but I could tell I had a head injury. It was serious. I could feel shards of bone pressing into my brain. Soft, vital tissue was starting to swell. I swayed and sank down to my knees.

“Sully!” screamed Jules. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at him. I could see his face. His eyes were laced with distress. Everything around and behind him was blurred out. He was all that existed. It was almost a beautiful moment, but it didn’t last long. Jules wasn’t the only thing that existed. Other things existed too. Bad things.

“Guess I’ll have to kill you myself,” Dalton spat, dropping his canines.

“Sully, heal! You need to heal. Heal now!” Jules was yelling. I could tell he was frantic. I was trying. I was trying to heal. Jules was sending desperate energy through the bond. It was helping, but it wasn’t enough. I needed time. Hours. Maybe even days. It was time I didn’t have.

Dalton stalked toward us. His strides grew long and animalistic as he did. He was snarling. Saliva streamed down his teeth. I tried and failed to get onto my feet. I tried again. It was useless. I couldn’t bear my own weight. I looked up at Jules and willed myself to speak. I swirled my tongue around the back of my teeth and finally mumbled, “Run.”