Chapter 9: Consequence

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Wild barking and excited yips—lycans only a few streets away

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Wild barking and excited yips—lycans only a few streets away. People started running from all directions, heading for the Colony's main gate. Rapid gunfire tore the cool morning air.

Gull felt each concussive discharge, sound a hit to the chest. He'd had less time than expected; the lycans were attacking now. And they had the Colony in their sights, home to children and other non-combatants, including his mother and his artist sister, Mika.

Hashi slapped his pistol into Gull's hands. "Get the fuck out of here, kid!"

Gull wanted to reject the order, but the reality was anyone close to him would be a target.

He jammed the pistol into a jacket pocket.

Then he ran.

He stayed at ground level, boots hammering pavement. Every gunshot and scream jolted through him as he bound over discarded tyres and weed-cloaked refuse. He knew laying down a fast, straight trail away from the settlement was the best thing he could do, but his heart still warred with his mind. He'd split off some of the mutts, but the lycans had other reasons than him to hit the Colony. They needed to rebuild their numbers and—

Zera.

Gull's stride faltered. He recovered in time to clear an overturned shopping trolley, but his thoughts scrambled. Dragon, the lycans' alpha, was possessive and controlling, especially toward those he'd Changed. He considered Zera his. He'd want to reclaim his packmate.

But she was no longer what he'd made her.

Gull skidded to a stop; swung back to face the Colony.

Chaos. Lycans running down people as they tried to reach safety.

Horror hazed Gull's mind. His friends and family. Shit. Zera. She wouldn't even be able to flee. He'd left her chained and defenceless. If her packmates found her... Gull's stomach dove. She hated what she'd done as a mutt. She'd die before she'd let the lycans retake her.

Movement—to his left.

Gull turned, fear leaping the same instant as a dark, shaggy body. He made to dodge—

An explosion of fur and meat.

The attacking lycan slammed into the pavement as Gull jumped clear. Blood streaked the ground, the creature missing half its head.

Shock dissolved into pure adrenaline.

Gull pivoted and ran. Some sniper in the Colony still had his back. He needed to have theirs. As clawed feet scrambled behind him, he tried to convince himself that was a good thing—not a total nightmare. The more mutts hunted him, the fewer hit the settlement.

Another gunshot. A thud—another large body hitting the ground in his wake.

Gull choked back an oath as barks sounded down a side street: lycans flanking the northern side of the Colony. He'd nearly run into the group.

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