Chapter 161
Jackson's POV
The brown wolf—Lucas—had Caleb pinned against what remained of the entertainment center, jaws locked around the larger gray wolf's shoulder. Blood matted fur on both animals. Caleb's claws raked deep gouges down Lucas's flank, and the brown wolf howled—a sound of pure rage that made every window rattle.
Lucas released his grip only to lunge for Caleb's throat. The gray wolf twisted with supernatural speed, using his superior size to flip their positions. Suddenly Lucas was the one pinned, Caleb's massive jaws descending toward his exposed neck.
Shit.
This wasn't going to stop. Not with words. Not with commands they were both too far gone to hear.
Caleb's eyes—still holding that cold, calculated gleam even in wolf form—locked onto mine for half a second. And I saw it. The deliberate provocation. The intent.
He wanted this chaos. Wanted the exposure. Wanted me to either join the fight or stand aside like a coward.
Fine.
I made my choice.
My shift happened faster than it ever had before—months of Miles's brutal training paying off in an instant. Bones restructuring, muscles expanding, the relief of finally letting the wolf out after days of suppression. Within three seconds I'd gone from human to a wolf form that matched Caleb's size.
I hit him from the side like a freight train.
The impact sent all three of us crashing through the already-destroyed coffee table. Glass shattered. Wood splintered. Caleb's snarl turned into a yelp of genuine surprise as my jaws found purchase on his hind leg, yanking him off Lucas.
The brown wolf scrambled to his feet, panting. Our eyes met.
In that instant—wolf to wolf—understanding passed between us. Whatever history we had, whatever rivalry... none of it mattered right now.
We had a common enemy.
Lucas lunged from the front, going for Caleb's throat again. I kept my grip on the leg, using my weight to keep the larger wolf off-balance. Caleb thrashed, trying to shake us both, his claws gouging the hardwood floor.
He was strong. Stronger than either of us individually. Alpha-trained from birth, every movement precise and economical even in his fury.
But we were coordinated. Desperate. And fighting to protect what was ours.
Lucas feinted left, and when Caleb turned to counter, I released the leg and lunged, aiming for the cluster of nerves at the base of his neck. My teeth sank into fur and muscle. Not deep enough to kill—I wasn't trying to kill—but enough to hurt. Enough to remind his nervous system that he was vulnerable.
Caleb's roar shook the walls.
He spun, throwing me off with a violent shake. I hit the remains of the couch hard enough to see stars. But Lucas was there immediately, using his smaller size for speed, darting in to snap at Caleb's front legs, keeping him from pursuing me.
The gray wolf's attention split. Fatal mistake.
I recovered and came at him from his blind side while Lucas held his focus. My full weight slammed into Caleb's ribs. Lucas simultaneously went low, hooking Caleb's front leg with his jaws and pulling.
The massive gray wolf went down.
Lucas was on his throat in an instant, jaws locked around Caleb's windpipe—not crushing, but controlling. I positioned myself over Caleb's hindquarters, pinning them with my bodyweight, my teeth finding that nerve cluster at the base of his neck again.
Caleb struggled. God, did he struggle. Thrashing, snarling, trying every counter-move in his extensive training.
But he couldn't shake both of us.
Lucas applied pressure—just enough to cut air flow without killing. Caleb's struggles weakened. His eyes rolled, consciousness fading.
One last defiant snarl, and then—
Nothing.
Caleb's massive gray wolf form went limp. Lucas stumbled backward, panting. And then—God—the shift back.
It hurt worse than the transformation out. My bones grinding, compressing, human skin stretching over wolf muscle. I hit the destroyed hardwood on my knees, naked and shaking, watching Lucas do the same. His brown wolf dissolved into the guy I'd known for months, gasping like he'd run a marathon.
Caleb was last. Unconscious but shifting automatically, his body's defense mechanism kicking in. One second: seven-foot monster. Next second: some rich asshole passed out on the remains of what used to be a coffee table.
I forced myself upright. Every muscle screamed. My ribs—fuck—definitely cracked on the left side. Blood still seeping from the gashes on my shoulder where Caleb had gotten me early in the fight.
The apartment looked like a bomb site. Couch torn to shreds. Claw marks scoring the walls so deep I could fit my fingers in them. Blood—human and wolf—splattered across everything. The air reeked of violence and that distinctive musk that screamed territorial dispute.
Seventy-one hours until the full moon. We were all operating on fumes.
Lucas made a sound—half whimper, half sob. His eyes tracked toward the balcony. Toward where Ellie had gone with Samantha.
"Don't." My voice came out flat. Cold. "Not now. We deal with the immediate problem first."
He flinched like I'd hit him.
I grabbed my jeans from where they'd been shredded in the initial transformation, found my phone. Screen cracked to hell but still working. Seven missed messages from Ellie, timestamps showing her panic escalating: Are you okay? to Jackson please to ANSWER ME.
My hands shook as I typed back: Fight's over. Lucas and I injured but standing. Caleb's unconscious. Miles coming in ten.
Then, because I had to know: Samantha's status? What did the doctors say? Is she awake?
While I waited for her response, I pulled on what was left of my clothes and speed-dialed Miles.
He picked up on the first ring. "Tell me."
"Caleb deliberately shifted in front of a human." My voice sounded like gravel. "Lucas and I took him down together. He's unconscious now. The apartment's destroyed. Ellie got the girl to the medical center."
Silence. Then—
"Excellent."
I blinked. "What?"
"You said deliberately? In front of a human?" Miles's voice had that edge I'd learned to recognize. Not anger. Excitement. "Perfect. The little shit finally handed us exactly what we need. Lennox has been grooming him as the perfect heir for years. This?" A sharp laugh. "This is a killshot."
"Miles—"
"I'm calling the Oversight Council immediately. Caleb violated the Concealment Doctrine—that's an automatic review. And I'll make damn sure every elder knows it was premeditated." Papers rustling in the background. "I'm ten minutes out. Don't let Lucas leave before I get there."
"What about—"
"The girl's a human problem now, not ours. You focus on keeping your story straight." He paused. "And Jackson? You did good. Your parents would be proud."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone. Miles wasn't worried about the breach. He was thrilled. This wasn't damage control—this was an opportunity.
Jesus.
"What did he say?"
Lucas's voice startled me. He'd managed to pull on his torn shirt, sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up. His hands still trembled. Gold hadn't fully faded from his eyes.
"He's coming to clean up. Take Caleb to a safe house." I kept my tone neutral. Professional. "You need to get to the hospital. Act like you just heard Samantha was hurt. Be shocked, concerned, supportive. But don't—" I met his gaze. "—don't try to explain what she saw. If she brings it up, you know nothing."
"But she—" His voice cracked. "She saw me change. She saw all of us. How do I just—"
"You lie." Flat. Final. "Or you condemn every wolf in this city."