The pack formed a protective circle around the play area—some in wolf form, some in human form—as the eagles soared above them.

“Hector sure does like to hire bird shifters.” Jesse knew this species could be brutal in their attack. He’d fought an eagle shifter once before, and it hadn’t been pretty. He’d won, but the bird had inflicted a lot of damage. These eagles were much larger. Harpy eagles. Fierce shifters.

His wolf bared his teeth, wanting freedom so that he could rip out the throats of the invaders. But Jesse chose not to shift so that he could maintain verbal contact with Harley. He planted his feet and stood at the ready. “Stay close to me. And don’t shift.” Her cat was small and would be easy for them to carry off.

Heart hammering in her chest, Harley tried to steady her breathing as she said, “We need to get them on the ground.” Their bones were hollow and fragile. Her hissing cat was looking forward to hearing them break.

Limbering up his neck and shoulders, Jesse warned, “Don’t let them come up behind you. One powerful strike to the back of your skull would be fatal.” Just the thought made him lose his breath. She was integral to him. Part of him. She was . . . everything. A knot of panic formed in his throat, making it hard to swallow.

He wished he could send her into the fort with the pups, even considered using the excuse that she didn’t have the same training as him and the others. She’d just snort at him. She had the same fierce protective streak that ran through him; she could no more retreat from a fight than he could. As such, all he could say was . . . “Stay safe for me.”

She nodded, jaw hard. “You do the same for me.” Anticipation tingled through her as they waited in silence. All that could be heard was the rustle of grass and leaves, as if the wildlife stood still. Goose bumps rose on Harley’s arms. Whether they were caused by the cool, light evening breeze or the rage thickening the air, she wasn’t sure. The breeze carried the earthy scents of pine needles and greenery, but those comforting smells did nothing to calm Harley or her cat as they continued to wait.

As if by some unspoken agreement, the harpies attacked at once. No warning. No slow descent. One dove toward Jesse like an arrow. He ducked, narrowly evading the talons, and then quickly whirled as he stood, swiping the eagle’s wing. The fucker didn’t even lose its balance.

Spinning, he saw his mate grab a metal pogo stick and whack another eagle, sending it crashing to the ground near Jesse. He moved to the injured harpy, who was on its back, wings splayed and talons slashing the air. Stomping one boot on its wing, he reached down and broke its neck with a satisfying yank.

“Jesse, duck!” shouted Harley. But the harpy didn’t aim at him. It snatched up a white-gray wolf with outstretched feet the size of human hands. Instead of soaring away with who she was pretty sure was Eli, the eagle dropped him mercilessly on Roni. And then things just sort of went crazy.

The battle was chaotic. Brutal. Frenzied. Neither side showed mercy. Blood, rage, and sweat scented the night air, feeding her cat’s hunger to be free and exact her own vengeance. Pumped on adrenaline and fury, Harley swung the pogo stick again and again as the harpies came at her. Each time the metal hit bone, the impact reverberated up her arm. She didn’t care, even though her hand was starting to feel a little numb. She—

At the sound of a wail, Harley ducked. Talons scraped her scalp and yanked some hair right out of her head. Fucking bastard. Eyes watering, she slapped a hand to her throbbing scalp. It would probably hurt a lot worse later when the adrenaline wore off.

Another wolf hurried toward them, howling in anger. Harley guessed it was Kathy. A harpy smashed into the she-wolf, sinking its talons deep as it pinned her to the ground. Heart in her throat, Harley rushed forward and struck the motherfucker with the pogo stick.

The eagle swayed, taken off guard. The she-wolf took advantage of the eagle’s distraction by righting herself and lunging, sinking her teeth into the bird. Another wolf appeared, aiding the older wolf in tearing the eagle apart.

“Harley, I told you to stay close to me!” Jesse yelled, throat dry from breathing so hard. A horrific force slammed into him from behind, driving him to his knees and snatching the breath from his lungs. The impact could have snapped his spine if he’d been human. Burning pain lanced down his back as talons tore into his skin. He gritted his teeth and—

The weight of the harpy disappeared at the sound of metal crushing bone. The dead bird landed at his side.

Harley helped him up and then slapped his chest. “You bastard, stop worrying about me and worry about you!”

Jesse wanted to shake her. How in God’s name was he supposed to not worry, especially when the scent of her blood tormented his senses and sent his wolf into a frenzy? “Just stay—”

They both jerked back as a harpy whizzed past them and ripped Ally from the ground. It just as quickly released her, causing her to fall right on the kids’ slide with a loud thunk. Harley flinched in sympathy.

As Derren rushed to his unconscious mate’s side, another eagle made a beeline for him. But then a ball bounced off its head, testing its balance and distracting it—thanks to Caleb and Kent, who were throwing balls and Frisbees at any harpies that came too close—giving the Beta the chance to dodge the harpy in time.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Harley took a moment to glance around. The situation was bad. One eagle had dug its talons into Marcus’s arm and was dragging him along the ground, away from a half-conscious Roni. Zander was struggling to his feet after an eagle struck him hard, barely missing the back of the enforcer’s neck. Nick’s wolf was biting into a bird’s wing and shaking it hard as the eagle tried to attack Shaya. So many of the pack were injured. In addition, Ally was still unconscious, so she couldn’t heal them. Only four of the ten eagles were dead.