He wasn’t a stupid wolf, and he’d hunted with the pack a thousand times. Jace’s call earlier demanding that he bring Emma was typical bait-and-switch shit. They were coming for Emma, but their timing had to be right. It had to be immediately after he’d left to meet up with Axton. Knowing Dustin wouldn’t risk bringing her himself, Jace would be coming in to retrieve her.
All he had to do was keep Jace human long enough to pummel his dumb face into unconsciousness. And then he was going to kill him.
Only it wasn’t Jace’s car that showed up a couple minutes later. It was a white SUV with a license plate that read WRCKERS. Shit. Axton, that fucking poop flake, had involved the Wrecker Pack. Or maybe he was taking them over, hell if Dustin knew. He’d never really been a part of making plans. Come to think of it, he’d never really been part of the pack.
Wreckers: three wolves. One medium dominance, the other two brawlers, and Dustin shouldn’t be able to take them. Shouldn’t. But when they exited the vehicle and strode right for Emma’s door, something awful happened inside of him. For the first time in his life, Dustin’s wolf reared up, snarling, foaming at the mouth, howling, scratching at the inside of his skin, bleeding red fog that tainted his vision. His inner animal was insane as Dustin pushed open the door and loped across the parking lot.
His bare feet were silent against the slick concrete, and he stayed low, upwind of them, using the cars in the parking lot for cover. They didn’t speak, only looked at each other with their glowing silver eyes. The alpha twisted his body to the side as if preparing to kick the door in. From the back of his jeans, Dustin pulled the long bowie knife he’d lifted from Logan’s room earlier and sprinted for the closest Wrecker. Dustin dragged the blade across his neck deep enough that no amount of wolf healing would fix him in time, and then he was on the alpha next because Jagger was the real threat. Dustin couldn’t let him Turn, or he was fucked. He needed him wounded before he went to fur, just to give his wolf a chance in the fight.
Dustin tackled him and slammed the blade at Jagger’s face just as he hit the ground. Jagger was fast, though, and gripped his wrist, stopping the blade an inch from his right eye. They would be matched in strength, and he was wasting precious milliseconds with another Wrecker at his back, so Dustin dropped the knife and blasted Jagger in the jaw with his left fist. Two blows were all he got in before he was ripped off and slammed backward into the front of Logan’s truck. A headlight broke against his back. It would’ve hurt if he felt anything right now. The adrenaline was pumping too hard, too fast. Change! Let me have them!
Jagger’s Second grunted with his Change, and now it was too fucking late anyway. Dustin had to give his body to the wolf and hope for the best. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the Change and caught the Second full in the chest. Fangs and snarling and pain, Dustin fought as though his life depended on it. No, like Emma’s did. He couldn’t let them get to her.
When the Second’s teeth sank into his shoulder, Dustin clamped down on his neck. It was a bad position, but his wolf was insane with bloodlust right now. Where was Jagger? Dustin gave a glance to Emma’s bedroom where Jagger was there boot up like he was about to kick in the door. Fuck! Dustin threw the Second as hard as he could, jerking his muscular neck, and slammed the wolf into Jagger like a dumbfounded bowling pin. Jagger hit the door with his chest.
Dustin didn’t give the Second a chance to recover. He was on him before the tan and cream wolf hit the concrete. Teeth and nails and road rash and, God, everything ached, including Dustin’s jaws from ripping fur and flesh. There it was. The angle he’d wanted. The death-grip. Something was distracting the Second, and that was fine. Where was Jagger now? Dustin didn’t release the Second’s neck as the wolf scrabbled for his life. Dustin would endure every bone in his body breaking before he let go this time. Damn though, really…where was Jagger?
Was he already in her room, hurting her? Killing her? Desperation took his wolf, and Dustin ripped the Second’s throat. The wolf gurgled at his feet as Dustin looked up in panic.
Jagger was in wolf form, but he wasn’t moving. He lay in a pile at the feet of someone equally terrifying.
Beast stood over Jagger, shoulders heaving, eyes blazing gold, teeth gritted, scars bright red on his face, hungry gaze locked on Dustin. He was too dominant, too broken, couldn’t control his animal instinct to attack an injured animal, and Dustin was bleeding bad. He could clearly hear the pit-pat-pit-pat of his own blood on the concrete. It was like a fucking dinner bell for a monster like Beast.
It wasn’t Axton who was going to end Dustin.
It was going to be his own damn crew member.
The titan staggered and shook his head hard. “Dustin, Change back.”
What? Hell no, he wanted to live. At least as a wolf, he had teeth.
“Now, Dustin, fuck!” Beast grabbed his head. “Can’t think, can’t think.”
And then Winter was there, pushing Beast back off his kill. Off Jagger. “Dustin’s ours,” she chanted. Winter pointed at Logan behind Beast and yelled, “Don’t you fucking Change!” Logan’s eyes were silver and empty. He looked like a serial killer.
With a ragged breath, Dustin forced the Change back and curved in on himself as he coughed blood onto the cement.
“Is it done? Is it done? Right or wrong, Dustin?” Beast asked in an animalistic, feral voice.
“What?”
“I want him,” Beast snarled, pushing forward against Winter’s hands and lurching for Dustin.