Chapter Twenty-Two
Rowe
His neck swung around fast enough that several of the wolves at the speaker’s side flinched. They had just walked around the side of the silos, perhaps fifty feet away from where he stood. Most of them were shifted. Four of them were not. And they were all clumped together.
Rowe spread his wings, ready to leap into the air and take them on, hoping to end it all in one fell swoop. They were ready for him though, and the instant he did that they spread apart, staggering their distances from him and each other.
Very well, it would just take him several passes then. His legs tensed and he made ready to leap into the air. These shifters were about to learn a very real, and very harsh truth. Unfortunately none of them would be alive to make use of their knowledge.
“Rowe?”
He stopped, frozen still as a statue as all his calculations came crashing down around him. Cheryl stepped up to his side, looking out at the arrayed shifters, including the four still in human form.
Crap. The last thing he could do now was take to the skies. If he did that, they would get too close to his mate. He could still probably blast them with gas, but shifters were tougher than humans. It would take more time and more effort from him to kill them. Time that they could get to her, but also time that would expose her to his own weapons. She might be his mate, but she was still a human, and his gas would kill her as easily as it would anyone else.
He could control his power, make the gas dance to his tune, and do some fairly interesting things with it. There were few even in the enclave that had his raw strength. It was still gas, however, and a gust of wind would blow some loose. In a major battle such as the one he would have to undertake, the grounds around him would be untenable to anyone not inured to the effects.
Which meant he was limited to his physical weapons. Close combat on foot was not a dragon’s specialty. Almost the exact opposite really; they were terrible at it. Rowe in particular was not overly graceful when landbound. That was a skill most dragons neglected, and only learned it as they aged through the simple expedient of experience.
This was not going to go well. His scales were impervious to many things, including most smaller-scale human weapons. Other shifters was not on that list. Whatever it was about the genetic makeup of shifters, his scales would part under enough power from a wolf’s bite or claws. It would take them time, however, which meant a major advantage to him, especially in one-on-one combat. A singular wolf, or even a few, wouldn’t stand a chance.
One dragon versus fourteen? Not good odds.
“What do I do, Rowe?” She was nervous. Scared.
“You should have made her leave.” It was the same speaker as the one who’d delivered him the ultimatum. He was big, with lots of muscle. Bigger than Rowe in his human form, which was unusual. Unless…
“Made her leave?” He laughed, letting the deep booming sound wash over the assembled pack. A dragon’s laugh was much slower than a human’s, but the bass behind it was unmatched, and he could see at least one wolf unsettled by it. “You obviously don’t know her very well.”
“She is a woman. Just pick her up and make her go. Only a weak-willed man would let her be so stubborn.”
Rowe grinned suddenly, letting his teeth show. “You know, Rusty was by all accounts an asshole, but now I see where he got it from.”
“Enough talk.” The huge man changed into an unbelievably large wolf with fur of deep sable, and eyes the yellow of the sun.
The coloring was cool, but other than that, the size wasn’t as big of an issue as it might have been. With him fighting in dragon form, it just meant a bigger target. Easier to hit. Rowe eyed the other three men who had yet to change. They were big too, not quite his height, but thicker. Barrel-chested, with blocky chins and big foreheads.
When they changed, it wasn’t into wolves. A trio of grizzlies, each easily double the size of the black wolf shook themselves out, staring up at the dragon with hate-filled eyes.
“Whoa whoa. Where did you dig up those from?”
Bear shifters were notoriously private. They hated dealing with anyone, let alone a pack of wolves. What the hell had he done to deserve three of them? A closer look at the trio revealed the same markings over their left eye. He frowned. Vague memories of rumors of a mercenary trio of bear shifters floated to the surface. That had to be it—they were hired muscle. No way in hell they would normally work with wolves. Too bad; if it were something else perhaps he could have exploited the natural hostility between races.
“Cheryl,” he said calmly, turning left-side on, blocking her from as much of the coming fray as he could. “Stay behind me like this at all times. You’ve got to keep moving. I can’t spare the time to ensure you’re out of the way.”
“O-Okay.”
There wasn’t time for him to give her a pep talk, because all at once they charged. Not one or two at a time. All fourteen came at him at once. That was so not fair.
He whipped his tail around as the wolf on his left got too eager.
“Take that!” he shouted as the clubbed tip sent the beast sliding across the ground, mewling in pain. A perfect shot.
A wolf coming down the center snarled and leapt toward his back. Bad, bad move. The dragon ducked his head low and speared the creature on one of the horns on his head, shaking it around like a bull before flinging it into the path of another.
One of the bears reached his flank and huge claws spilled bright green scales to the ground. Rowe roared and bit down on the flank of the creature, but a wolf jumping for his face made him rear back. Flapping that wing he stirred up dust, forcing the other shifters to cover their eyes. On his face one of his trio of eyelids flicked over, allowing him to still see while giving him protection from the airborne debris.
Cheryl shouted out a warning and he snatched up a wolf trying to make its way around his flank to get at her. His jaw muscles tensed. Bone crunched. The wolf yipped once, and then went limp. Rowe used it like a bowling ball, knocking two more wolves down.
Another bear came at him. A mighty dragon paw swept at the creature, but it didn’t come within range. A feint, he realized, as two other bears dug their claws in deep to his side. They were spaced evenly apart, forcing him to choose one. So he did, and that bear roared as it received the full brunt of a dragon-sized headbutt.
His left flank was ablaze in agony now, the ground littered with fallen scales. Wolves darted in and out, occasionally adding more prizes to the building pile. The bears worked in unison, inflicting the big wounds when he couldn’t stop them in time. Rowe worked hard, but he was flagging, his strength waning. There were just too many of them, and without the full use of his powers, he couldn’t stop them.
“Cheryl!” he bellowed, shrinking down, letting them all slink in closer.
“Rowe?”
He swung his head around and spoke in the softest whisper. “I’m your bodyguard, your bed partner, and your…” he trailed off, forced to resume fighting, but not before he saw the understanding dawn in her eyes. “When I say so!” he yelled, exploding into action.
Lulled by his complacency, the attacking shifters had come in close, and he drove them all back with a frantic series of attacks with his tail, wings, and teeth.
“Now!”
He waited several seconds to allow her to get clear, then spun in a wide circle, keeping the animals at bay as his deadly tail scythed through the open space between them. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his mate sprinting toward the smallest barn with all her might. Legs churned, knees rising and falling, arms swinging with abandon. Her hair was free of the ponytail, reddish-blonde in the afternoon sun as it trailed behind her.
They were going to make it. She had enough of a lead, and he was holding off the others. Once she was clear he could unleash hell. Not before. Run, he urged her silently, kicking out with a paw as a wolf darted between his outer defenses. The motley gray and white beast screamed as his claw punctured its cheek, ripping skin from bone in a gruesome display.
“Ew,” he growled, shaking his foot to try and rid himself of the disgusting trophy.
He spun again, driving them all back, using the spin to check on his mate’s progress. Rowe’s eyes went wide.
“CHERYL!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, lunging forward in horror.