Page 27 of Bred By the Wolfman

Thankfully, her own dog leaps to its feet and instantly jumps into action.

I come to a grinding halt as the two dogs start going at it. Dee jerks upright as growls and snarls fill the air, and she lets out a shrill cry. I hesitate, not sure if I should intervene or not and reveal myself. While my woman and my cub aren’t directly at risk, I don’t want anything to happen to her beloved companion, either.

“What the fuck?” Dee shouts, then dives at the two dogs. Shit. That’s not good—someone as small and fragile as her shouldn’t get in the middle of a dogfight. The runner is also rushing toward her pet, hand outstretched. This isn’t going to go well.

My instincts know only one thing: keep Dee safe, even if it means she learns my secret.

One, two, three strides, and I have my arms wrapped around her, dragging her away from the fight. Then, once she’s stunned and set on the ground safely a few feet away, I dive for the two dogs.

First I grab the attacker by the head, squeezing my fingers between its jaws to pull it off of Dee’s pet. It yowls as I haul it backwards, and there’s blood on my hands where it got its teeth into the other dog’s flesh. Cursing, I hurl it to one side, and it rolls on the grass before springing back to its feet. I turn to face it, putting my body between the two animals, and it lunges again—this time, right at me.

It’s easy to block with my arm, though, and the beast clamps its jaws around my wrist.

“Poppy! Stop!” the runner calls out, and I realize that she and Dee have both been screaming for some time. “Poppy!” I’m bleeding now, too, but there’s not much the dog’s jaws can do against my thick fur and skin. The runner grabs her dog by the collar, tears streaming down her face as she tugs on it, trying to get it to release me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Slowly I lower the dog to the ground while it snarls and wriggles, then I pry its jaws off of me. Once I’m freed, the woman snaps her leash onto the dog’s collar and starts dragging it away.

“Keep your damned animal under control,” I snap at her, and her eyes grow huge. Then I spin around to check the damage.

I find Dee on her knees next to her dog, who’s whimpering pathetically. I kneel down beside her, where she sits sobbing.

“Boomer!” She’s petting him, clearly in shock. “Are you okay, buddy? Oh, look at your ear!” I want to pat her back and assure her that he’ll be all right, but she might not welcome it. Instead, I pull out my phone and start to dial 9-1-1.

“I’ll call someone,” I say. But Dee quickly stops me with a hand on my arm. My hackles raise, highly aware of her touch, and I almost pull away because the shock of it is so powerful.

“Don’t,” she says, glaring at the jogger who’s still standing there, watching us. “I’ll handle it.” Suddenly her voice is firm, despite the shakiness from her tears. Dee pulls out her own phone and stalks toward the woman with the other dog. “Give me your number, your name, and your address.”

The runner holds her dog tight as it snarls, and lists off all the information. When they’re finished, the jogger leaves, dragging her animal along behind her.

Dee looks something up on her phone, then dials. “Hello? My dog was just attacked, and I need someone to look at him.” She pauses for a second. “Okay, you have a spot now? I’ll be right there.” She turns off the phone, shoves it in her pocket, and sprints back over to us.

“Are you taking him to the vet?” I ask as the brown dog paws at his torn ear.

“Yeah, right now. Thanks for your help, wolfman.” She takes the leash in her hand and offers me a thin half-smile—until her eyes travel down to my arm, where blood is dripping through my fur. Her mouth falls open in horror.

“Oh, fuck,” she says, grabbing my arm to get a better look. Her tears start coming again. “Please, please don’t sue me.”

I frown at her. “Sue you? Why would I sue you?” I jerk a thumb in the direction the runner went. “I should be suing her.”

“Please don’t sue anyone.” She helps her dog to his feet and starts walking away, but then stops and gestures for me to follow. Obediently, I do.

“Come on,” she says. “I’ll take you to the hospital right after we drop Boomer off at the vet. He’ll probably need stitches.”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “Vet first?” I ask, in a joking tone. “I know where I fall on the food chain.”

Despite her tears, Dee smiles. “Sorry. He’s just... he means a lot to me.” The dog is still letting out pathetic sounds as she winds through the park toward the exit.

“I understand,” I say, even though I’ve never had a pet myself. Dee tilts her head at me as we walk, and she squints.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she asks. “Your voice sounds familiar.”

I try not to show how this makes me feel: giddy and pleased. So she remembers me that well, does she?

But I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I say, fishing for something that might throw her off the scent. “Though I’ve been told there’s a radio DJ who sounds like me.”

“That must be it.” Dee shrugs then resumes leading me to her car. I already know which one it is, and head towards it to open the door. She stops cold.

“How did you know that one was mine?” she asks, pointedly peering down the row of other cars parallel parked there.

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