Page 54 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

Someone coughing violently.

Julia, my Julia.

Her face is smudged with soot, her hair in disarray. Beside her, Seraphina's scales gleam dully through the smoke, her wings partially extended in a protective posture. Both are hunched over a third form.Silverine, trapped beneath what appears to be a massive overturned buffet, her elegant frame stuck at an unnatural angle. Silverine's leg is pinned, her expression tight with pain but composed. Seraphina is trying to lift the furniture, her claws unsheathed, but it's too heavy. Julia is shielding Silverine's face from the smoke with a wet, folded linen runner.

I understand what I see, but it's tinted through my wolf's eyes. And my wolf only cares about Julia.

More smoke billows around them, coming from the first floor behind them. Time stretches like taffy as my wolf howls inside me, primal fear clawing up my throat at seeing my mate in danger. For one terrible heartbeat, I can't move, can't breathe. Then instinct takes over, propelling me forward.

I don't stop. I reach them and rip the buffet aside with a roar, my strength enhanced by adrenaline and wolf instinct. The heavy wood splinters against the wall like kindling with the force of my protective rage. Silverine bites back a growl of pain as I crouch beside her.

"You two, outside. Now," I order, pointing at Julia and Seraphina. "I'll take care of Silverine."

"I'm not leaving without you," Julia says, coughing but defiant.

"Yes, you are," I growl, my wolf surging to the surface, the beast laser-focused on its need to see Julia safe. "I need you safe."

Even through the smoke and chaos, she's breathtaking, chin lifted in stubborn determination, eyes flashing with a fire that rivals the one consuming the manor. Beautiful and defiant, with soot smudging her cheeks and determination hardening her jaw. My wolf wants to howl at the sight, both proud of her courage and terrified of losing her.

Before the standoff can worsen, Percy arrives, eyes glowing gold and wings extended in fury. He rushes to Seraphina, his hands frantically checking her for injuries, running over her smooth scales with heart-wrenching care.

"Are you hurt?" he demands, voice rough with emotion as he cups her face.

"I'm fine," Seraphina assures him, leaning briefly into his touch. "But my grandmother needs help."

Percy nods, pressing a swift kiss to Seraphina's forehead before moving to Silverine's side. He scoops the elder dragon into his arms with surprising gentleness and nods to me.

"You take Julia. I've got her."

I don't argue. I turn to Julia and lift her into my arms. She protests once, then clings to me as we flee down the stairs.

Julia holds me with desperate fingers, her face pressed against my neck, breathing deeply. I can feel her taking in my scent, using my shirt to filter out the acrid smoke. The intimacy of the gesture sends a shiver down my spine despite the danger surrounding us.

Her trust in me, so complete and instinctive, makes my wolf howl with satisfaction.

We emerge onto the manor's front lawn where staff and guests have gathered in frightened clusters. The afternoon sun seems obscenely bright after the smoke-filled corridors, highlighting the fear and confusion on every face. Dragons huddle together in clumps, their scales glittering in the sunlight. Human staff members stand in smaller groups, many still coughing, some with tear-streaked faces.

Emergency vehicles pour through the gate, their lights flashing across the historic facade of Windfall Manor. The wail of sirens cutsthrough the murmur of the crowd, adding to the surreal nature of the scene. Firefighters jump from trucks, unrolling hoses and shouting instructions as they assess the east wing where smoke continues to billow from shattered windows.

I should put Julia down now. We're safely outside, and she's perfectly capable of standing on her own.

But I don't. I can't.

My arms tighten around her instead, my wolf refusing to release her even for a moment. I carry her away from the crowd to a quiet spot beneath a massive oak tree, its ancient branches offering shelter from both the sun and prying eyes.

"Are you hurt?" I ask, reluctantly setting her on her feet but keeping my arms around her waist.

"I'm fine," she says, though her voice is hoarse from the smoke. "Just a little shaken up."

She pulls back slightly, looking over her shoulder at the commotion.

"I should go check on Silverine. Her leg might be broken."

Her face is smudged with soot, hair tangled and wild from our escape. Even disheveled and smoke-stained, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Especially now that she's safe.

When she tries to move away, my hand shoots out, catching her wrist.

"No," I say, my voice taking on the tone that brooks no argument. My alpha tone. "You're staying right here where I can see you."