Sharp teeth scrape our fur, and then they sink into our hide, piercing fur and flesh, deep, ripping muscle, clamping down and holding on. She howls. It hurts like hell, but we love it. We go limp. Pliant. He slowly extricates his fangs, licking the wound gently and methodically with his raspy tongue, soothing the hurt. I stretch my neck to test the tendon. It works. Everything is still attached. There’s no pain. Something thumps in my chest. And then there’s hot skin on my back. “Shift, baby.” Killian’s human voice is gravel. My wolf whines. He’s above us, pushed up on his arms, shielding us.
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