The Alpha's Omega
"He wouldn't say what's unusual about it. Just that we need to see for ourselves."
Doubt coils in my gut. Farmers don't usually call for our kind over livestock. It doesn't add up. And from the look in Angel's eyes, I can tell she's thinking the same thing. She watches me cooly as I shift, my bones reshaping, muscles realigning. In seconds, my lupine form stands before her, claws scraping against the gym floor.
I speak through the link.
Lead the way.
-*-
Fabric rips beneath my claws with a satisfying shriek. I land lightly, the sun-scorched concrete branding my pads, but pain is a distant thing. My muscles coil—then release. I lunge.