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I sliced my blade across the mage’s throat, evil spilling from his jugular. There was no satisfaction. No feeling.

I only had eyes for Wren.

King had been right to name her Little Warrior. She was tiny but so incredibly fierce. So much so that she hadn’t hesitated to dive in front of a sword to protect Puck.

The mage crumpled to the ground, his blade falling with him. But the damage had been done. Wren clutched her side, her eyes going wide as blood seeped through her fingers. A deep red. So alive. Not the evil the dark mages carried inside them.

Wren stumbled, and I didn’t hesitate. I lurched forward, dropping my knives to the ground so I could help her. I caught her easily, and a moan slipped from her lips. “We need to move,” I snarled.

Locke let loose a stream of curses. “Getting the SUV.” He jammed a knife into a mage’s heart and then took off running across the parking lot. Locke hated fighting. It wasn’t in his nature. But he did it for us. And maybe for Wren.

I pressed my hand to her wound, knowing I needed to keep pressure on it. Humans were so weak. Delicate. Breakable.

“Fuck,” Puck cursed. “Why did she do that?” Panic scorched his eyes, but he kept right on fighting, slaying as many mages as he could.

I stared down at Wren’s face. The scar that ran from her forehead to her jaw, just missing her eye, stood out even more now with how pale she was. I had the bizarre urge to trace it with my finger. That wasn’t me. I didn’t touch people if I could avoid it.

When I did, the panic set in like hundreds of snakes constricting my chest, neck, and limbs. But here I was, holding Wren with no such feelings. Maybe because I knew she was no threat to me. Something told me that was a lie.

Tires screeched, and two mages dove out of Locke’s way as he gunned the engine. He brought the blacked-out SUV to a skidding halt in front of me and jumped out. “Oh, gods,” he whispered.

His worry was evident in his tone. I knew that’s what I should be feeling, but I didn’t have those normal human emotions. I simply felt uncomfortable —or the fiery heat of what should’ve been rage.

“Create a circle,” Kingston yelled. “Get her into the SUV.”

My brothers created a crescent moon of protection around us. Puck, King, and Ender fought off as many of the mages as they could, and I pushed to my feet, cradling Wren in my arms. She moaned, not fully unconscious but close.

Locke opened the door to the back seat, and I slid inside with Wren still cradled against me. She shifted as if trying to alleviate her pain, and I felt a prickle of something in my chest—a pins-and-needles sensation like your fingers waking up after being asleep for hours.

What was that ?

Shouts sounded outside as Locke slid behind the wheel. Kingston and Puck filed in beside me while Ender ran around to the front passenger seat. The moment he was in the SUV, Locke gunned the engine and took off across the parking lot. He instantly moved into an evasive maneuver that would disguise our route if any mages followed.

Our compound had magical protections, ones we’d paid a caster a pretty penny to implement. The wards they had created prevented any spells from finding our home and any supernaturals with ill intent from crossing our borders. But the moment we stepped outside, we were fair game.

“Faster,” Puck ground out, sending a worried glance in Wren’s direction. “She’s not looking so good.”

As if agreeing, Wren let out another soft moan.

“She’ll be fine,” King clipped as if she were a subordinate forced to follow his orders and there was no other choice.

Still, Locke pressed down on the accelerator. “Open the gate.” His voice was quiet like always, but there was an underlying fury there I’d never heard from him before.

Ender pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen, but he didn’t say a word. He would usually be breaking down the fight and outlining our next steps. But not now. It was as if he was still trying to make sense of it all.

Gravel spit under the SUV’s tires as Locke hit our property line. I should’ve felt some sort of ease at being within the wards, but I didn’t.

It took less than five minutes to reach the house we’d had built almost a decade ago. The dark wood was almost black, punctuated by accents of more natural wood in a few strategic places. The structure was massive, but we were five shifters, and all liked our space.

The SUV screeched to a halt, and everyone but Wren and I were out in an instant. Ender yanked open the door, and I slid out, still cradling her in my arms. Locke had already run ahead to open the front door.

“Get her to medical,” King clipped.

Normally, I would’ve rolled my eyes at the idiotic order. It wasn’t like I was taking her to the kitchen for a snack. But I didn’t say anything, simply strode down the long hallway to the small room at the back of the house. It held all the medical supplies and healing potions we had on hand. But none of us had worked on a human before.

I laid Wren on a gurney as Kingston donned nitrile gloves. He had the most medical training thanks to owning the gym. “I need gauze, a suture kit, and hydrogen peroxide.”

In a matter of seconds, the supplies were on the cart next to him. “Lift her shirt,” he ordered.

I swallowed hard but gently lifted the ruined workout top. A snarl left my lips on instinct. It wasn’t just the wound still oozing blood, it was the scars decorating her torso. Her skin was littered with them. Burns. Blade marks. What looked like damage from a whip.

Other growls lit the air, and the scent of fury swirled around us.

“Hold it together,” King ground out. “We need to treat her.”

“She’s human. Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital? What if she needs surgery?” Locke asked.

“And say what?” Ender challenged. “She got into a sword fight with a creature of dark magic and lost?”

“I don’t know what,” Locke shot back. “But I’m not about to let her die.”

Something shifted in the air. A scent. It laced the fury as if coating it.

My jaw went slack as I stared down at Wren. The room went silent as we gawked at her unconscious form. It was her scent we smelled.

That same wildflowers and rain as before, but with a different root now. She smelled of wolf. And of caster.

But more than that, she smelled like…home.