Shifter Forbidden Mate

Chapter Seven

Draven’S POV

“How are we going to do this?” I ask Art, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that assuming you know the plan without hearing it out loud is how people get killed.

Art shrugs like this is a grocery run instead of a monster extraction. “I think it’ll be easy,” he says. “Here’s what I came up with. We send Eira in to draw one of them out. Let her show herself. They’ll chase her, but they won’t send an army, because she’s just one wolf. They won’t think they need more than one to deal with her. When whoever follows her gets back to us, Soren and I take him out.”

I frown. “Just you two?”

Art nods. “Just us.”

“And what exactly am I doing while that’s happening?” I ask, already knowing I’m not going to like the answer.

He looks at me, really looks at me, with that older-brother expression that means he’s about to say something I’m going to argue with. “Not you,” he says. “You know what’ll happen. You’ll get carried away and toast him. The point of this is to bring back a body. We need proof we found them, and proof we can draw them out before the big offensive. No dragons.”

I grit my teeth. He’s right, and I hate that most of all. I’ve lost count of how many times my temper has turned a clean fight into a scorched crater. When the heat rises, it’s hard to stop it from rising all the way.

“So why am I here?” I ask flatly.

“Because you’re the only one strong enough to move the corpse once we’re done,” Art says. “None of the rest of us can carry something that size fast enough to get clear.”

I snort. “So I’m a pack mule.”

“Get over it,” he says. “You’re being paid.”

I lean back against a tree, crossing my arms. “This is the shittiest job I’ve ever had. The next contract we take better involves something exploding.”

“You don’t think flying away with a dead monster is fun?”

“…Maybe a little fun.”

Art turns to Eira . “Are you ready for this?”

I watch her closely, half expecting her to push back, to ask why she’s the one being dangled in front of a monster like bait. I know I would. But she doesn’t hesitate. She just nods, expression set and serious.

“I’m on it.”

“Remember,” Art says, “you only want one of them to see you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Because if you bring back two ”

“I said I’ve got it.”

Art studies her for another beat, then nods. “Go ahead.”

She drops into wolf form smoothly, like she was born halfway between shapes. There’s no hesitation, no awkward transition. One moment she’s standing there, the next she’s fur and muscle and motion, slipping into the trees like she was never there at all.

Art watches her disappear. “I’ve got to hand it to her,” he says quietly. “She’s sneakier than any of us.”

“She has to be,” I say. “She doesn’t have brute force to fall back on.”

“Don’t get complacent,” Art adds. “This part’s on us now.”

“I’m not,” I say. “And don’t think I won’t step in if this goes bad.”

“You can’t,” Art says immediately. “You have to let us handle it. If word gets out that something is burning monsters alive in these woods if they recover a body cooked from the inside this whole job collapses. And you know what happens then.”

I do. The monsters who hired us won’t just fire us. They’ll make an example of us.

“We’re not going to f**k it up,” I say.

We wait.

The woods stretch on in silence, broken only by the wind moving through the branches and the distant calls of birds. Every second feels longer than the last. I can feel the dragon pacing inside me, restless, aware that prey is close.

Then Soren’s ears snap forward.

His tail stiffens, and he lets out a low, anxious whine that I recognize instantly. Years of growing up together have taught me every nuance of his body language.

“She’s coming back,” I say.

Art nods once.

He shifts, and even after all these years, it’s still something to see. There’s no frantic reshaping, no awkward in-between. It’s like his body simply decides to be bigger, heavier, denser. Muscle rolls and expands, fur bursting through skin, and then the bear is there massive, grounded, radiating power.

He jabs a paw upward.

Get out of the way.

I grimace but obey. Staying visible would only make me a liability. The dragon might want to fight, but the job comes first. I climb, gripping bark and branches until I’m concealed high above the clearing.

I crouch and wait.

A heartbeat later, Eira bursts from the trees.

She skids into the clearing, paws scrambling for traction, and right behind her comes the sound of something enormous crashing through the underbrush.

Then it steps into view.

Monster.

Every time I see one, it hits the same way wrong. Too many limbs. Too many teeth. A shape that feels like it was never meant to exist. This one is big. Bigger than Art.

That alone makes my muscles tense, dragon instincts screaming for release. Anything bigger than my brother is a problem that needs solving.

Art doesn’t hesitate.

He moves with purpose, circling behind the monster, staying out of reach of its claws. Eira dances in front of it, darting just close enough to keep its attention, just far enough to avoid getting shredded.

It swipes at her again and again, stupid with rage.

Soren launches himself into the fight, fast and vicious. His jaws clamp down on the monster’s neck, teeth sinking deep.

For one triumphant second, it looks like we’ve got it.

Then the monster roars.

It bucks violently, throwing Soren off like he weighs nothing. My brother’s body slams into a tree with a sickening c***k and drops to the ground.

Something inside me snaps.

Fire floods my veins. I grip the branch so hard it creaks, shoving the dragon down with everything I have.

No. Not yet. Not now.

Art moves.

He grabs the monster from behind, locking his massive arms around its neck and twisting with all his strength. There’s a sharp, unmistakable c***k.

The monster goes limp.

It collapses to the forest floor in a dead heap.

I won't wait.

I drop from the tree, landing hard but steady. My heart is pounding, my skin buzzing with barely restrained heat.

“Take him,” Art says, breathless.

I glance at Soren, who’s stirring, groaning.

“I’ve got him,” Art adds quickly. “You need to get the body out of here before more show up. Go.”

I don’t argue.

Letting the dragon rise is like finally breathing after holding it too long. Wings unfurl, heat surges, and I dig my claws into the monster’s shoulders.

With a powerful beat, I lift off, carrying the corpse into the sky.

As the forest drops away beneath me, there’s only one thought in my head.

Please let my brother be alive when I get back.