Nothing could’ve prepared me for the fury of the big gray wolf, who moments ago was pacing quietly beside me, exploding out of the forest.
Jackson doesn’t give the ten or more wolves in front of the Merrick house a chance to retreat, to fight back, to do anything but die under his powerful jaws. And Jeremy? He’s no lightweight either.
But me? I freeze, stunned by their speed and their violence.
On the edge of the front porch is Loren and another shifter, who I’m guessing is another Merrick because they’re the only ones who haven’t shifted. In their hands are rifles, and it takes no stretch of the imagination for me to guess what they’ve loaded the guns with.
Tranquilizer darts.
They not only knew we were coming, but they’d prepared for us. Looks like Jackson was right about them not t
