Page 14 of Mated By the Pack
“The Gen-Lion can handle a couple of Gen-Cows,” I mutter. “Even if they are Minotaurs.”
After the flare, the hybrids broke free from the facilities where they were made. The ones that weren’t already on the battlefield, at least. They found strength in numbers, but once The Tangle began to emerge, and the heat storms raged, those larger groups splintered into packs, prides, herds, and swarms, depending on the mutation in their blood. All driven by instincts their human side didn’t understand.
There are no true Gen-Cows left. Mating was never a challenge for them. One Gen-Bull could breed an entire herd, and their numbers grew fast. Too fast. They became a food source, even for humans who had begun to form tribes again. Maybe it was their need for survival that caused the third and fourth generation of their offspring to emerge as something different—fierce, brutal warriors with hooves and horns, like the beasts of legend. They became predators, instead of prey. Natural-born children of hybrids are usually stronger and faster, but this was a complete evolution.
“They’ve got armor and weapons,” Jace says. “Still no match for a Gen-Lion, but they’ll put up a fight. Could be dangerous for her.”
“Then we’ll intercept them,” I growl, calling my wolf and breaking into a sprint before the transformation is complete.
“You’re lucky I hate Minotaurs,”Jace transmits as he closes in on me.“This isn’t for her.”
It is. He just doesn’t know it yet. He’s succumbing to an instinct he doesn’t understand. Following me into a battle we don’t need to fight. But we have to. I’d fight them alone if it meant keeping her safe, and while that wouldn’t be suicide, I’d certainly walk away with a few more scars.
“Take them by surprise,”I communicate as we close in on the hooved beasts.“They’re so hungry the only thing they smell is human meat.”
Human meat isn’t something we’re fond of, but some hybrids prefer it. Especially when they’re hungry.
Jace circles and I take the other side. A basic pincer attack, just like we learned in the military. Jace’s signal is my roar as I burst out of the underbrush in front of our targets. That draws the attention of both Minotaurs. One starts toward me, the other gets Jace’s fangs in the side of his neck before he realizes I’m not a lone wolf today. The Minotaur thrashes and spins, but it’s a mortal wound. Blood loss will do the rest. He’s already on his knees when Jace lets go of his neck.
The other Minotaur snorts and lets out an anguished wail as his comrade falls. Brother? Best friend? Possibly even a lover. The human side of me might have felt compassion for him, once upon a time. He’s wearing hard leather armor. My guess is he carved it from a Gen-Gator, based on the texture. But more concerning than his attire is the metal sledgehammer in his hands and the horns on his head. He swings the sledgehammer at me, and I dodge. That gives Jace an opening, but as he leaps, the Minotaur spins and Jace’s whimper echoes through The Tangle as the Minotaur drives his horns into my brother’s side.
“Jace!”I roar, the word piercing through our mental link while savageness comes out of my mouth.“Jace, talk to me!”
He doesn’t respond. He goes down in a heap with blood oozing from his mouth. His breathing sounds like broken glass. The Minotaur raises the sledgehammer to finish Jace off, and I leap on his back, sinking my fangs into his neck. He hurls me over hisshoulder, but I take a piece of him with me, spitting it at him as I land on four paws.
The sight of blood incites his rage. He swings wildly with the sledgehammer as he closes in on me. I dodge several blows, and duck the last one, which makes the tree it hits explode into bark and sap. I have to avoid the timber as it falls. No military training will help me now. It’s beast versus beast, and the only one who will survive this fight is the one that doesn’t make a mistake.
But I’m fighting for more than just me. If I go down, Jace won’t survive either. I’ve lost too many brothers and sisters to let that happen. I watch the pattern of his swings as I dodge the next few and find my opening. He’s running on adrenaline and rage, but every swing drains more of his stamina. It’s been too long since his last full meal.
In the split second between him swinging his sledgehammer and drawing it back, I leap at him. I use my back two paws to kick the hammer, but he lowers his horns when I go for his throat. A horn catches me in the neck. I avoid being impaled by shifting, but I land on two human feet with blood gushing down my body. The Minotaur lets out something that sounds like a—laugh?
“Oh, shit,” I mutter, staggering away and checking my wound. “Now he thinks I’m food.”
I’m slower in my human form, and the Minotaur charges with horns lowered to gore me, so I have to shift again. I bite above his right hoof, then his knee, but my haunch gets skimmed by the hammer. A close call—too close. I’m losing blood and I need to finish this fight fast.
I wait for him to choose horns or sledgehammer for his next attack. He chooses steel, but his swings are getting slower. I duck beneath the second one and lunge upward with everything I have. My jaw clamps down around his exposed throat, right above the armored line of his scaled collar. The sledgehammer falls to the ground and he starts bucking, trying to dislodge me. I refuse to let go, twisting and tearing until I open a hole.
Tendons snap and the warm rush of blood floods past my teeth. The weight of him crashes to the ground. I keep biting and tearing at his throat, making sure there is no way he’ll wake up again. I stagger back, panting, muzzle dripping with Minotaur blood. My legs are weak and nearly give out, but I refuse to go down until I know my brother is still alive.
“Jace,”I call out through the link. This time he answers. A whimper. It’s weak, but it’s enough.“You’re alive.”
I throw my head back and howl for our brothers, then sprint to Jace’s side, shifting into my human form mid-stride.
“Can you shift?” I ask, kneeling beside him. “It’ll be easier to tend to your wound if you can.”
Jace’s purple-gold eyes flicker. He closes them, exhales, and melts into his human form. His ribs are clearly broken, and the wound on his side is gushing blood. I have basic medical training from the military, but our brother Gavin was the doctor. We lost him a long time ago.
I don’t have supplies. No gauze. No sealant. All of that is back at the den. All I have in instinct and desperation.
I tear back to the fallen Minotaurs. Their scaled leather armor is lined with cloth. It’s thick and grimy, but clean enough. I ripout a handful and race back to Jace’s side where I press it to his wound hard enough to slow the bleeding.
I get his wound wrapped the best I can, just as branches behind us crack and our brothers burst through the underbrush.
“What the fuck happened?” Knox demands, shifting as he skids to a stop. “This isn’t where we set up camp!”
“They were hungry and hunting,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my neck. My fingers come away soaked in blood. The ground tilts under me, but I steady myself. “We had to do something.”
“They weren’t huntingyou,” Knox growls, stepping forward like he’s ready for a fight.
