Page 54 of Flint's Arrow
Arrow stood in the parking lot, surrounded by assassins, still breathing hard from the fight. He still couldn’t quite process what he’d just done. His knuckles throbbed, his ribs ached, and his wolf prowled beneath his skin, satisfied and smug.
We protected our mate. We won.ToArrow, that was the most surprising part of all. He’d always intended to do as well as he could, and Arrow had been determined to fight as hard as he could. It’d been many years since he’d fought with his brothers growing up, and taking on a bear was a totally different situation, which could’ve had a totally different outcome.
“Can you shift?” Flint’s hands were everywhere, soothing as he cataloged the damage. “Arrow, look at me. Can you shift?”
“Yeah.” Arrow blinked, focusing on Flint’s face. “Yeah, I can shift.”
“Good, because Python will murder you if you bleed on his upholstery.” Flint stepped back, giving him room.
“Demons don’t murder people for getting blood on their car upholstery,” Python called from where he was inspecting his Maserati for damage. “Demons creatively relocate those offenders to dimensions where they experience regret.”
“Is that what we’re calling the Underworld now?” Pax was visible again and nestled under Storm’s arm. “Creative relocation?”
“Call it what you like, pixie.” Python rubbed at a spot of dust on the car’s roof. “The outcome is the same.”
Arrow pulled off what remained of his shirt, kicked off his boots, and pushed his jeans down his thighs. The shift came easily, his wolf eager to heal the damage Patterson had inflicted. Bonesrestructured, fur sprouted, and within seconds, he stood on four legs, shaking out his pelt.
“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Pax breathed. “Look at him, all silver and black.”
Arrow’s wolf preened under the attention, but when Pax moved closer, a low warning growl rumbled from Arrow’s chest.
Pax froze mid-step. “Um.”
“Back up, Pax.” Flint’s voice was amused. “He’s still riding the adrenaline from defending me. Protective instincts are cranked to eleven right now.”
“I just wanted to pet him. He looks so cute.”
“I promise you can do it, later. When he’s not ready to bite anyone who comes within five feet of me.”
Arrow wanted to protest that he wouldn’t bite Pax, that he had perfect control, but another growl escaped when Storm approached Flint. The crocodile held up both hands, backing away slowly.
“Noted. Flint is off-limits until the wolf calms down.”
“I’m walking to Python’s car now,” Flint said, his tone soothing. “Arrow, you can come with me.”
Arrow followed immediately, keeping between Flint and everyone else. His wolf didn’t trust anyone right now, his instincts on high alert. He used to think he could trust Patterson, but the man had tried to take him away from his mate. The wolf didn’t want anyone else to try.
“That is amazing,” Levi said, watching from a safe distance. “He’s like a furry shield.”
“Fluffy bodyguard,” Calvin agreed.
“Overprotective puppy,” Python corrected, unlocking the Maserati. “Flint, back seat. Arrow, you’re riding in the trunk area.”
“There’s no trunk area in a Maserati,” Flint pointed out.
“Fine, he can get in the back seat. But if he sheds on my leather, I’m charging you for detailing.”
The drive back to the Alley took forty minutes, and Arrow spent every second of it pressed against Flint’s legs, alert for threats. Storm and Pax followed in Storm’s truck. Devon and Wren took up the rear in Devon’s sedan. Levi and Calvin brought up the tail in their massive pickup. It was like a convoy, but the wolf saw something more - protection, pack…family.
By the time they’d gotten back to the Alley, Arrow could shift back, his cuts and scrapes all healed. Flint dashed to his porch and came back with a set of clothes he grabbed from a box. Jeans and a T-shirt that smelled like Calvin’s laundry detergent.
“We all have handy boxes with clothes like this,” Flint explained, pulling on a fresh shirt of his own. “It’s common sense to leave spare clothes around in case we shift unexpectedly. You’re part of that now.”
Arrow dressed slowly, processing the simple truth behind Flint’s words. It had been three weeks, and just as Arrow thought he’d gotten a handle on his place among the assassins, something else happened that helped him see that spot was so much more. Not because of his job title or his last name or what he could do for them, but because he was Flint’s mate and they accepted him.
“Okay, ground rules.” Python gathered everyone in the sawmill before they dispersed. “Nothing gets said to Cyrus about our off-the-books mission today. Understood?”
Arrow opened his mouth, not sure what to say. He’d never been good at lying, and keeping secrets from a handler seemed wrong on multiple levels.
