Astrid sat her desk at the clinic when the alarm went off. The alarm that meant their pack was under attack. She stood and slammed the button that sounded a lock down alarm in the hospital. Nurses, doctors and aids ran around locking down doors and moving patients away from the barred windows.
“Trent, where are you?” she mind linked.
“Packhouse,” was all he could say. His voice sounded strained.
She ran out the hospital door and shifted. She almost faltered and fell when she saw what was going on outside the clinic. Bloodshed everywhere. Pack members were on the losing end, it looked like. Rogues. She could recognize them anywhere. Dirty, skinny, but muscly, a wild look in their eyes and matted fur. She jumped into the action, fighting her way to the packhouse.
“Astrid,” Trent chok
