Chapter 48: Elodie

A roar rent the air, a vicious sound, somewhere between a growl and a scream. My eyes flew open to see Patrick jerking the gun toward a new target. He was barely turned before something crashed into him. He went down hard on his back and the gun went off.

The world went to molasses as the sound tried to catapult me back to the cabin, to the blood. I fought to stay present, to stay in the now. And in that long, slow moment, it was Sawyer's face I saw shifting, his half-formed muzzle snapping, nearly grazing Patrick's throat as they fell.

Hope and disbelief rammed into me like a Mack truck. It wasn't possible, wasn't real. Sawyer was dead. I'd seen it happen.

With a rubber band snap, time sped up to normal again and the scene before me played out in a rush. Sawyer missed. Momentum carried him too far and he hit the ground hard, one of his paws turning beneath him. His leg buckled. He rolled with it, and came up fast, snarling and favoring his leg.