The first hit was a crack across Kol's cheekbone—sharp, fast, and personal. He staggered back a half-step, blood blooming at the corner of his lip, but the grin that stretched across his face wasn't pain.
It was challenge.
He came back with a blow of his own—fist hooking hard into Tiger's ribs. The thud of it echoed in the clearing like a gunshot.
Then it unraveled.
Completely.
Tiger roared, launching into Kol like a freight train, and the two of them went down hard—crashing into a crate, snapping the seal with a metallic groan. Weapons skittered from their holsters. Mick jumped out of the way with a yelp. The others pulled back just enough to avoid the fray, but no one stepped in.
Not yet.
No one wanted to interrupt it.
I didn't either.
Not immediately.
There was something valuable in watching this play out. Raw, unscripted violence revealed things that silence never could. Loyalty. Fear. Weakness. Who they defended. Who they hated.
And who they would betray.
Nyx pressed against the inside of my skull, impatient. Let me out. Just for a second. I'll break them apart like twigs.
"Not yet," I murmured.
Kol shoved Tiger back and landed a solid punch to the gut. Tiger grunted, then lifted Kol clean off the ground and slammed him down. The impact rattled my teeth from where I stood.
Blood hit the dirt.
Boots shifted.
One of the handlers—a woman with a streak of white through her braid—winced. "This is getting bad."
Another crate teetered. Someone grabbed it before it could tip. The contents were classified, dangerous, maybe even volatile. No one knew what was inside the third one except the boss—and I wasn't about to crack it open just to find out.
Kol didn't stop.
Even when blood poured from his nose. Even when Tiger slammed him against the frame of the van again and again. He fought like he had something to prove.
Or something to cover up.
And maybe he did.
They were both covered in bruises now. Blood. Scrapes. A blow to Tiger's ear left it ringing. Kol had a split lip, and his left eye was starting to swell shut.
The rest of the crew circled like wolves.
Watching.
Waiting.
And I—
I could feel the shift pulling at me.
My bones itched. My skin stretched wrong. My throat tightened with the familiar burn that came just before the change.
Let me, Nyx urged. I'll end it clean.
"I said not yet," I hissed.
But my voice was already changing. Lower. Rougher.
Tiger had Kol in a chokehold now, pressing him down into the gravel. Kol's hand flailed against the van wall. His other hand reached—
Too close to his sidearm.
I took a step forward.
No choice.
Another.
I felt my spine start to shift—an ache in the marrow, a snap in the shoulder—
And then—
I heard it.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Not boots.
Not gravel.
Not van wheels.
Leaves.
Underbrush.
Movement.
Multiple bodies.
Coming fast.
Nyx stilled instantly.
Ambush.
I whirled, eyes scanning the tree line. The others hadn't noticed yet. The fight had drawn all their focus. But I could hear it. Smell it. Something was coming.
And it wasn't friendly.
"Get up," I snapped.
No one listened.
Tiger punched Kol again. Kol's head slammed back.
I strode forward, grabbed Tiger by the shoulder, and yanked him off Kol like he weighed nothing.
He turned on me, mouth open—
But stopped when he saw my face.
And the look in my eyes.
Not just human anymore.
I wasn't even trying to hide it.
"Shut up," I growled. "All of you. Now."
They froze.
Because they saw it, too.
The shimmer in my pupils.
The tremble in my hands that wasn't from adrenaline.
Kol was gasping, but alive. He leaned back against the van, one eye swollen shut.
"What—" Tiger started.
I held up a hand.
Everyone fell silent.
And then they heard it too.
Crunch.
Rustle.
Whisper.
Too many for animals.
Too soft for soldiers.
But not soft enough.
I turned to the trees, posture low. "We're not alone."