Page 10 of Lone Wolf’s Claim (The Kincaid Werewolves #1)

Brock's blue eyes shot to her face, and then he jumped to his feet and began scanning the area around them.

Shoving the coin back into her pocket, she slid her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck again and did the same, hanging on tight.

Just in case. She had no idea what to expect.

All she knew was that they had just lost the coin toss, and if winning one got them sucked into another world with no supplies or shelter to survive, the gods only knew what was about to happen now.

Suddenly he spun around in front of her so fast, he didn't give her a chance to let go of his fur and a hunk of it came away in her fingers.

A growl rumbled deep within his throat as he zeroed in on a single point in the distance.

She peered through the fog, but try as she might, she couldn't see or hear anything.

His head suddenly whipped over to the left, and the hackles on the back of his neck stood up so high they formed a ragged mohawk from his head to his rump. He leaned against her, stepping sideways as he pushed her back toward the water, his eyes intently studying the trees.

Heather got his drift and stumbled back to the creek until she was standing at the edge of the water.

He took up a protective position in front of her and bared his teeth in warning, his eyes shifting back and forth.

Lowering his head and chest, his snarls ripped through the air, accompanied by snaps of his teeth as he made his claim on her known.

She backed up some more until the icy water was lapping at her sneakers and drenching the already damp hem of her yoga pants. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she desperately tried to see through the damn fog, but try as she might, she couldn't see what was coming for them.

But something was coming, that much was sure. And it wasn’t anything they’d be happy to see. She could feel its menacing presence weighing on the air around them.

They waited for what felt like an eternity.

Heather tried to keep her breathing quiet, even though she really felt like screaming, just to break the tension.

She still couldn't see anything, but she could hear it now: Puffs of breath in front of them and to the left.

Branches and dried-up pine needles broke under heavy footsteps that came steadily closer.

Whatever it was, it sounded large. The cloying smell of rotten meat hung heavy in the damp, cool air, becoming stronger with every passing second.

Her stomach heaved and she tried breathing through her mouth, but it only made it worse.

Brock paced back and forth in front of her nervously a few times, and then stopped and held his ground. Head lowered, teeth bared, eyes glowing with a preternatural light, he watched and waited.

She wiped her clammy palms on his clothes and hugged them to her chest. This was so not going to be good.

She could sense that much at least. Her heart was racing, and her blood was roaring through her veins at such a speed that her vision was beginning to darken at the corners.

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down.

Brock's head dropped lower still, until his chin nearly touched the ground, and more vicious snarls ripped from his throat one on top of the other until chills broke out on her skin. He stared hard straight ahead, every muscle in his wolf-like body tensed and ready.

The mist stirred in front of them, breaking apart like wisps of a cloud.

Heather caught a glance of a yellow eye narrowed at Brock.

It was surrounded by muted green leather skin and black stripes.

As it came closer, a large head with rows of sharp teeth revealed itself, and then swung around to its right.

She followed its gaze to find an identical pair of yellow eyes pinned on her.

Raptors? Velociraptors? How could that be? Heather's blood pulsed as her heart started pumping in triple time. She was both fascinated and terrified of dinosaurs. Ever since she saw the first Jurassic Park movie. Thank God there was no way in hell those things still existed.

Except here they were.

The one directly ahead advanced on them, and Heather saw that she had, in fact, been mistaken.

They weren't quite velociraptors. They were something much worse.

For one, velociraptors didn't have black claws the length of a T-Rex's dripping with some type of fluid.

They also didn't shriek like a banshee, or have stiff spines covering their wrinkly, dark skin from the neck down.

And they didn't have six-inch long teeth, set in double rows in their wide, open mouths.

But velociraptors would use those powerful back legs to cover a good twenty feet of open ground with one leap to land directly in front of her werewolf.

Brock reared up on his hind legs, coming face to face with the creature, and then dove forward, slashing out with his enormous paws and going for its throat. But the thing knocked him aside with one short arm like the giant werewolf was naught but a teacup Chihuahua.

Its gaze immediately locked in on Heather. She had to stiffen her knees to keep her legs from buckling underneath her as the thing tilted its head, its intelligent eyes searching her face. For what, she couldn't begin to guess.

It took a step toward her and Brock's clothes tumbled out of her arms to land in the muck at her feet as her blood turned to ice.

She wanted to run, but she couldn't force herself to move.

She wanted to do something to help Brock.

She wanted to close her eyes and open them again to discover that she'd only been having a bad dream.

It took another step just as Brock let out a roar, the pure savagery of the sound finally jolted into action.

Remembering her kickboxing training (one of the things that she did trying to win the constant battle with her weight) she kicked out with her most powerful front kick, catching it in the stomach with the ball of her foot.

It kept coming. Hands up on each side of her head to protect her face, she ducked low and swung her right fist upwards in an uppercut, landing it square in the vicinity of where its kidney should be.

Then she stepped back and followed it up with a perfect roundhouse kick, the top of her foot making a satisfying thud as it connected.

It didn't seem to affect it at all. It just kept coming. She stumbled back farther into the stream. The icy water streamed over and into her shoes, making her bones ache.

Lots of good all of those damned classes did.

Razor-like, pointed claws lifted toward her face, dripping with that strange fluid, but it barely registered. Her body flashed hot and cold, a whimper escaping her as she waited for those talons to slice into her face.

Eyes wide, she stared up at the thing. It almost appeared to be smiling at her, an evil glint in its yellow eyes, and a scream tore from her throat.

She squeezed her eyes closed as the claws flashed toward her face.

Raising her arms to protect herself as best she could, she waited for the pain, but it never came.

Opening her eyes again, she saw the reason why. Brock was on top of the creature, his massive paws digging into its upper arms as his teeth snapped at the thing's jugular. The spines on its back were embedded deep into the ground, stuck like spikes and hampering its movements.

A motion caught out of the corner of her eye tore her attention away from the match in front of her.

The second creature came flying through the air, straight into Brock.

Its momentum carried them both away from the first creature, and they rolled over and over, caught in a gruesome hug, landing half in and half out of the stream.

The other one, still stuck in the ground, began rocking back and forth on its back, loosening the dirt around its spines.

Heather's body finally caught up with her mind and she spun around, looking for a weapon.

Finding a rock that looked big enough, she hefted it in her palm to feel its weight, then hauled back and threw it as hard as she could at the thing's head.

It hit it right above its right eye, leaving an ugly gash.

Screaming with rage, the thing renewed its efforts to get free, and this time managed to make some serious headway.

Shit. All she’d managed to do was piss it off.

As it rolled onto one side and then the other, she turned and ran, splashing through the creek to the other side. She fell up the opposite bank, scraping her hands and knees on the rocks, but she barely flinched, scrambling to her feet and turning around to see what was happening.

Brock was caught underneath the heavier body of the dinosaur that had tackled him.

As she watched in horror, it sank its teeth into his shoulder.

Brock howled and roared in anger and pain and lifted his back legs, kicking the thing off of him and rolling away.

It took a mouthful of his flesh and muscle with it.

They both landed on their feet and faced off, circling each other slowly on their hind legs in a macabre dance.

Brock's sapphire eyes were glowing with an unholy light, and his teeth were bared in a bloody semblance of a snarl.

Heather saw black liquid dripping down the creature's neck where he'd bitten it, and hoped it was blood.

The first creature finally freed itself from the ground and flipped over with help from its long tail, pushing itself up to a standing position. It glanced over at her, then turned its attention to the fight going on downstream. With one powerful leap, it landed directly behind Brock.

"Behind you!" she screamed, just as it lunged at him with both arms outstretched.