Bosse dropped to his knees instead of sitting, and Kinter said nothing.
Probably did not want Mort to figure out he had a sick shifter on his hands. As each captive shifted, Mort ordered the wolves to leave their nasty clothes behind, lie down to his right, and not even twitch a tail.
When it was Bosse’s turn, he told Titan,Do not shift until I say so.
Titan confirmed,I will wait.
Kinter unfettered Bosse’s wrists and ankles, then hooked a hand under his arm to help him stand.
As Bosse shucked off his pants and tunic, he whispered, “It might be easier on my hands and knees.”
The look Kinter gave him warned retribution if he failed to shift.
Having never struggled to shift, Bosse had no idea how to fake that. He dropped to his hands and knees, then scrunched his forehead and bulged his muscles. He groaned and moaned, “Come on, wolf. Don’t be afraid.”
He had Mort in his peripheral vision.
That frowning man glared at Kinter.
Kinter shouted through clamped jaws. “Change now!”
Bosse was out of time. If he didn’t shift soon, Kinter might kill him for costing his people money. He told Titan,Let’s shift.
Titan took the body over the next minute, and Bosse’s sight sharpened with his wolf’s vision.
Shaking off the change, Titan turned to face the Black River Pack.
Mort pointed at the end of the row of shifted wolves lying beside each other. “Take your place.” Every wolf had eyes full of sorrow for their future.
Moving tentatively, Titan took a step. Bosse had run out of ideas and felt sick for his wolf to go through this. He thought of suggesting they use their last breath to attack Mort.
Shots rang out from the trees.
All four of the tactical shifters jerked and fell backward from the strikes. The minute they hit the ground, they started ripping gear off.
Kinter had his gun up, backing up to the van. He shouted, “Where are they?”
He was struck in the shoulder. Blood spewed against the white van at his back. He dropped the gun and grabbed his shoulder.
The air filled with the pungent smell of fresh blood. Bosse glanced at the captive shifters. Two stood, shaking and snarling with blood lust. Never starve a shifter.
Wilson tried to run to the van. He took a round to his leg and upper arm. He hit the ground.
Titan calmly asked,What now?
Bosse told his wolf,I don’t know. None of the captives have been struck. I think we should wait and watch.
Mort spun and ran for the woods in the opposite direction the shots had come from.
Now Bosse knew what to do.Let’s get that Mort bastard.
His wolf launched across the clearing, and shots pinged around him. Whoever was shooting probably thought Titan was out of control. His wolf caught up to the Black River Pack leader as the man shifted into a massive grizzly bear.
Standing on its hind legs, the bear roared.
Fearless after years of battling far worse, Titan leaped for the throat, latching his jaws on the soft area.
Vicious six-inch-long claws slashed across Titan’s side, but Titan dug his claws faster than a wheel spinning on a race bike, shredding the bear’s chest as he began to slide down.
