HUNT (A Shifters Short Story)

I dropped my head as I limped forward, whining softly, trying to look unthreatening. To show submissiveness and concern. But she didn’t stop struggling until I dropped onto the cold ground beside her and laid my chin on her leg.

“Wha—?” But she lacked the strength to finish even that one word. Her heartbeat had already begun to slow, and her chest was rattling. I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t afford to let Robyn get too far away. And I still had to make that call. So I licked the back of her left hand—still bound to its mate—then scooted away from her to begin my Shift. And for the first time in my life, it didn’t matter that a human was about to witness the entire process.

My injured leg bent to spare it, I stood three feet from the fire, and its warmth was my only comfort in the face of grief, fear, and ever-deepening rage. The last time my life had been in danger, I’d been too scared to Shift, even for my own safety. Even with Faythe there to talk me through it.

Not this time. This time, the changes came almost too quickly to bear, my Shift fueled by an intense need to protect Robyn and avenge my other friends. To unleash justice on men so like the ones who’d brought a violent end to my adolescence, robbing me of peace and security for years afterward.

My muscles tensed, bunching and stretching as they took on new shapes. My joints popped in and out of their sockets as, in my memory, I screamed “No!” over and over, until the weight pinning me to the ground stole my breath.

My paws flexed uncontrollably, aching as they stretched and reformed. My claws retracted into the tips of my fingers as, in my brutal recollection, I clutched at my clothes, at the bars, at the edge of the bare mattress, desperate to make it stop. To hold myself together as long as possible.

My muzzle began to shorten, my gums throbbing as my teeth broadened, the feline points smoothing into rounded human edges. My jaws ached, as they’d once ached from screaming, then from trying not to scream, desperate not to give him the satisfaction.

My flesh began to itch as my fur receded, and in my mind, my skin burned—scalding water from the shower. I’d scrubbed and scrubbed, but couldn’t wash them off. Couldn’t clean down to the real me. The me they’d killed in that basement, in the shadow of the bars I still saw sometimes when I closed my eyes.

When my Shift was over, I sat on my bare knees on the frigid ground, panting from exertion, crying over old ghosts. If I didn’t hurry, it would happen to Robyn too. The men who took her may not have had bars and a basement, but they had knives, and they had no reason to let her live.

As soon as I could move again, I crawled over to Dani. Danielle Martin, with her big mouth and her kind eyes, who’d invited me to come on their couple’s weekend. Who’d insisted I wouldn’t be a fifth wheel. But Dani’s kind eyes were open and empty now, staring into the woods. Her bound hands still lay over her stomach, as if she’d tried to hold the blood in until the last second. And I’d missed it. She’d died alone, and scared, and in pain.

Steve and Billy would pay for that. They would pay, and pay, and pay…

Tears ran down my face, scalding my frozen cheeks as I pushed myself to my feet and raced across the clearing. The fire was hot, but not hot enough to keep me warm in the nude, yet instead of dressing, I dropped to my knees beside the pile of brush my purse had landed in when Steve kicked it.

My teeth chattering, I pulled back the zipper and grabbed my phone, praying it hadn’t broken. I pressed the home button, and the screen shined bright in the flickering firelight as I scrolled through the “favorites” menu for my Alpha’s number. As I pressed call, I dropped to the ground next to the careless pile of our belongings. I’d just spotted my hiking pack beneath the portable charcoal grill when my call was answered.

“Abby? What’s wrong?” Normally, his automatic assumption that something was wrong would have irritated me. But this time, he was right.

“Jace, I need help. Fast.” My teeth chattered, and I sniffed back a choked sob. “How soon can you get here?”

Springs creaked as he stood, and I heard heavy footsteps as he paced. Jace had bulked up a bit since he’d taken over the Appalachian Territory. “Where are you? What happened?”

I hauled my pack from the pile and pulled back the flap, already digging for a change of clothes. “I went camping with some friends from school, and now they’re dead. All except Robyn, my roommate.”

A single beat of silence passed before he spoke. “Okay, first of all, are you safe where you are?” His voice was solid and steady, a vocal cornerstone for me to build on. Like most Alphas, Jace dealt with crises all day, every day. Unlike most Alphas, he was young enough that he still looked good doing it.

Damn good.

I would have given anything in that moment to be staring at Jace instead of at the bloody remains of a human friend.