“Rush them.”
“What?” Akton didn’t think this man had any tactical training. When he glanced over again he was met with a frown.
“You rush them and she’ll have to break cover. I can handle her.”
“She’s a wolf shifter,” said Akton.
“Trust me,” he said, and gave Akton a little shove. He stumbled forward, caught his footing, and raised his sword, half expecting to find fangs in his throat any moment.
But they never sank in. As his ally said, he handled the wolf, a blaze of fire lighting up the space to the left of Akton as he ran. The fox looked up from licking his wound and the remaining non-shifter moved to meet his blow, but Akton summoned the last bit of strength he had and came at the man with everything he had. The non-shifter stumbled back on the uneven ground, and Akton buried his sword in him, barely able to pull it back and out. He stared, hand on his side.