Scott ran and ran and ran. His heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest. He kept running. Away. Towards. He didn't know and it made no difference.
Something – someone – solid slammed into him at full force, knocking him over. He heard his ribs break, felt his left shoulder pop out of its socket.
Scott and his attacker rolled around the forest floor, grappling for purchase. Scott had fully transformed. Or at least as fully as a beta could transform. He clawed and bit, but he never connected.
Of course, no one would expect a half-grown beta – even a born beta – to hold his own in a fight against a full-grown alpha. Especially not when that alpha had long ago left sanity in the dust.
Seeing a small opportunity, Scott managed one good hit and ran, stopping about twenty feet away.
The alpha raised his head, sniffing the air. The scent was familiar, his own, but not, completely. Pack, but so much more at the same time.
Slowly, Michael's features slid back towards human, but his eyes still retained a hint of red and madness.
Scott inched forward, submission in his every look and gesture. A half formed thought whispered that had it been anyone but his father, he'd be terrified, convinced he was going to die any second. But it was his father. Surely that meant he was safe.
"Yeah, it's me. How are you?"
Michael didn't answer, didn't move, just inhaled, claws still extended.
There was the suggestion of recognition in Michael's eyes, but that was all.
"Michael! You came here looking for Scott for a reason. Do what you came here for!"
Gerard Argent was standing behind Michael about fifty feet, a little out of breathe, but cool and confident for all that.
"Do it, Michael!"
Michael looked at Gerard, the wolf sliding to the fore, growling quietly...--Cut-- Click here for more --Cut--