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Tom
A SNARL RIPS out of my throat, and I shift before I even have a chance to think. The need to protect Jasmine is too great. My wolf body-checks her to shove her back behind me.
My brain isn’t working yet—I’m in full fight-mode, ready to rip their throats out.
One of them smiles like he’s going to enjoy killing me.
Another one steps forward. “Shift, wolf.” The words enter my body and reverberate through.
There’s alpha command in them. It gets my attention, even though I’m unwilling to obey.
It helps kick my brain back online.
Shifters.
These guys are shifters.
Which doesn’t necessarily mean they are friendly. But their scents are familiar. These are the wolves from Jasmine’s place.
“Shift, wolf,” he repeats.
I shift, calmer, now. A little more able to think. Still, I angle my body in front of Jasmine’s to sh
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