Once a Shifter lost control to his animal, his mind would sleep. Only some of the alphas had retained the ability to remember the shift and maintain some level of control. The rest were at the mercy of their animal.
Wheeler anxiously watched Jericho’s wolf snapping at the bear’s legs. He must have gotten a good bite because the bear suddenly roared, stretching out his neck and silencing every living creature within earshot.
Bingo. The wolf lunged, shaking and thrashing his head in violent motions after locking on to the animal’s neck. The bear swiped his paw and the wolf yelped, leaping back with a limp.
“Jesus, Jericho. Come on. You got this,” Wheeler whispered to himself.
The circling and quick attacks continued for several exhausting minutes. Wheeler almost pulled a cigarette out, except he didn’t smoke. His phone suddenly went off, playing “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC.
“Dammit, Reno, not now,” he murmured, turning off his phone.
When the wolf charged from the opposite side, the bear whipped his head around and took a nasty bite out of the canine’s shoulder. The wolf scurried around him, and Wheeler could see blood matted in his fur. Probably a combination of both of theirs, but he couldn’t tell since the bear’s fur looked like black satin in the moonlight.
Each animal moved with merciless grace, seeking a bite on an artery that would draw blood and weaken his opponent. It splattered on the concrete driveway like black rain. Wheeler didn’t know if Jericho’s wolf had ever faced a bear, but he sure as hell gained some mad respect for his brother. He’d never seen Jericho so calculated, so bloodthirsty, so vicious.
When Jericho’s wolf went for the jugular, the bear suddenly twisted around and grabbed him with both paws. Wheeler could no longer see his brother—only a mass of fur and muscle.
His heart raced, damn near cracking a rib as hard as it was pounding against his chest. Wheeler flung the door open and stood immobile, holding on to the frame of the window, trying to decide what action to take. Instinct dictated he should fight with his pack, but Jericho would never forgive him for stripping away his honor. Sometimes that’s all a man had. That idiot was about to die for a woman who wasn’t even his mate.
Within seconds, the struggle ended. All Wheeler could see was a tangle of the wolf’s legs protruding from beneath the bear.
Wheeler stalked toward the shotgun and picked it up off the ground. Honor or not, that bear was about to get a bullet in the head.
He approached the limp mass of bodies and paused, hearing a low grunt. The bear’s jaw hung lax, and blood poured from an open wound on his neck. Jericho’s wolf had torn out his throat.
And now he was suffocating underneath three hundred pounds of bear.
“Jesus!” Wheeler shoved the bear as hard as he could until it flopped over on its back.
“Jericho, shift,” Wheeler said harshly. He tossed the gun aside and lifted the wolf’s muzzle. “Shift, goddammit.”
In a fluid movement, the wolf changed over to a man. Jericho lay naked on his side, still suffering nasty wounds to his body. Bite marks were on the front and back of his left shoulder, and a long gash separated the skin on his thigh. It was hard to tell how many wounds he’d sustained because he was bathed in blood.
Wheeler lifted his eyelid to see how responsive he was. “Shift!” The healing magic was effective only when you were able to shift soon after an injury, and multiple times if necessary.
Jericho groaned, shifting back into his wolf. It looked better. Good enough that Wheeler picked him up and carried him back to the car.
The carcass of the bear would remain in animal form. Wheeler’s ass was going to be toast when Austin found out what went down, but for now, he needed to focus on getting Jericho back to health.
Chapter 27
It took five days before my heat cycle finally subsided, but not without a strange set of occurrences having taken place. Two days after Jericho had left, police sirens woke me up in the middle of the night. I drew back the heavy curtains and peered out the window, observing a group of curious men surrounding a dead bear in the parking lot. I didn’t know if bears lived in Texas, but being so far in the city, it led me to believe it must have been a Shifter.
But the peculiar part was that the animal was lying on the hood of my blue car. I wanted to throw on my robe and dash outside to make sure my vehicle wasn’t damaged, but it would have been too risky in my condition. Animal control finally showed up and dragged its heavy carcass away.