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The roar of an engine and firing of gunshots made me hesitate to run onto the porch. A snarl sounded from the trees beside the driveway. My ally?

Numerous men had jumped out of an armored vehicle, rifles pointed toward the den—toward the door where I crouched. I slid most of my body behind the wall for cover. Instead of firing at me, the men paused and looked toward the snarls.

Yes, I sensed that Duncan had arrived. Further, I easily spotted the bipedfuris because something glowed golden around his neck. A powerful magical item hung there, along with another item of lesser magic that did not glow.

“Radomir’s controlling him,” one of the gunmen barked. “He’s on our side. Get the girl, and find the case.”

The riflemen strode away from their vehicle and toward me.

“Are those our guys?” someone asked from the den behind me.

A thump sounded—one of my offspring’s friends striking the speaker with a pointy iron stick that smelled of ash. My niece continued to fight with a big, muscular man who remained upright, kicking at her with powerful legs. Some magic enhanced him. I wished I could turn back to help her, but the first rifleman had reached the porch. He didn’t know that I crouched right beside the door, and he strode forward without hesitation.

Hoping his body and the railing would block the others if they fired at me, I rushed out to meet him, jaws snapping for the gun. Finger on the trigger, he lifted it to shoot, but, with my speed, I reached it first. I clamped down on the cold, bitter-tasting metal and ripped the weapon from his grip. It clattered against the wood side of the den.

“Shit.” He leaped back, making room for his allies. “Shoot it— her !”

Before anyone could, the bipedfuris charged out of the woods and grabbed one of the gunmen. Sinking his claws into our foe, he elicited a scream of pain as he hefted the man from his feet and hurled him against a tree.

“Radomir!” one of the riflemen shouted in alarm, jerking his weapon toward the bipedfuris. “Your beast is out of control!”

Knowing the weapon contained magical bullets that would harm our kind, I rushed off the porch and at the man. I had to protect my ally.

Duncan roared and sprang at someone aiming a rifle in my direction. He had to protect me .

We tackled our foes, taking down even those with enhanced strength. We had the magic of the werewolf, and our power was greater than theirs.

A great wrenching of metal sounded as the bipedfuris not only tore a rifle from a man’s grip but bent the metal, destroying it before tossing it aside.

I bit the hand of my closest foe, fangs crunching through bone and tendons to ensure he wouldn’t wield a weapon again. Though we were outnumbered, we had speed and strength that the humans lacked. The magical medallion hanging from the bipedfuris’s neck bounced about on his furred torso as he leaped to battle a new foe, and its golden glow beamed all about, highlighting blood in the snow.

My wounded foe rolled away from me, leaving more blood behind. I started after him, but a back door in the armored vehicle opened. An older man stepped out, a magical device clenched in his hand.

“You will obey me,” he shouted, pointing it at the bipedfuris.

Magic sizzled in the air, and an orange beam shot toward my ally, connecting with a glowing scar above his eyes. I hesitated, remembering this device and when I’d seen it used before. It had forced my ally to turn upon me, to attack me.

The bipedfuris roared and spun toward the older man. His arms spread wide, his fangs appearing long in the golden light from the medallion.

The orange beam glowed brighter.

“I command you to leave my people alone,” the human ordered, but was that a hint of a quaver in his voice? Of uncertainty? “Kill the female, and bring me the case.”

After making sure no rifles were pointed at the bipedfuris, I crept toward the older man. If I could get that device away from him…

The golden light from the medallion flared, bathing the bipedfuris’s face and more. It ran along the orange beam, encasing it and then somehow making it disappear, its power overriding that coming from the device.

With another great roar, the bipedfuris ran across the snow toward the vehicle, toward the older man. Duncan raised his muscled arms, claws gleaming in the golden light.

Someone inside the vehicle grabbed the older man and pulled him back inside. The door slammed shut an instant before the bipedfuris reached it. The driver hit the accelerator and sped straight toward me. Though startled, I leaped aside before the armored fender reached me. The vehicle skidded in the snow, clipped a tree, and spun around.

The bipedfuris leaped onto the roof, claws raking the metal with screeches that hurt my ears. Even armored, the vehicle wasn’t a match for his power, and he tore into it.

I snarled in approval, wanting him to rip the old man out, to forever end the threat to my family and my allies. As the driver regained control of the vehicle, I sensed something in the snow where the old man had been. The control device.

The armored vehicle sped up the driveway toward the street with the bipedfuris atop it. Duncan smashed his claws into one of the side windows. Not as heavily armored as the metal frame, it broke under his assault.

One of the downed men in the yard rose to his knees, a rifle in his hands. He aimed it at the bipedfuris.

I charged, surprising him, and his shot went wide. But the crack of the weapon startled the bipedfuris, and he glanced back. The armored vehicle drove under a thick tree branch before reaching the street, and it struck Duncan hard enough to knock him from the roof.

I bowled into the man who’d fired, snapping at the rifle and tearing it from his grasp. He rolled away, trying to crawl toward the device in the snow. I halted him with a powerful bite to his shoulder. As he screamed in pain, I sprang upon the device and crunched down. Tiny pieces flew into the snow as magic sparked painfully in my mouth.

Not caring, I endured the pain and destroyed the device completely. Never again would it be used to control my mate.

After being knocked off the armored vehicle, he’d landed on his feet, but the vehicle had reached the street. It raced off at a reckless speed, one even a werewolf would struggle to match.

For a moment, the bipedfuris gazed after our fleeing enemies, as if he might try to catch them, but then he turned toward the driveway and strode toward me. The orange glow on his forehead had disappeared. He eyed the pieces of the control device in the snow, then tilted his head back and howled.

I almost joined in, but movement and muttering on the porch drew my attention.

My offspring, his friends, and my niece and druid ally had come outside, witnessing the end of the battle.

The man I’d bitten stirred and crawled toward the woods. I considered ending the threat he represented, but a vestige of my human self crept into my thoughts and suggested that killing a man in front of my offspring could be a bad idea. The savageness that had earlier made me care nothing of ramifications faded, and I did not chase down my enemy.

He and the other thugs capable of doing so slunk off into the woods. The bipedfuris gazed after them. Also thinking of chasing them down?

He did not. Instead, he looked toward the street, in the direction the vehicle had gone. Those were the enemies he regretted letting escape, I knew. The old man. The one who’d presumed to control him.

I padded over to stand beside him, to support him. If the old man continued to be a problem, we would deal with him. Together.

He patted my back, claws raised so they did no damage. There was something familiar about the medallion that hung around his neck. Its glow had lessened, allowing me to see a wolf head engraved into the front, the jaws parted to show fangs. When I returned to my human form, I would ask him about it.

“Definitely not dogs,” one of the young men muttered from the porch, eyeing us.

“No,” my offspring murmured, looking stunned.