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Theo hears Scott’s voice echoing through his head while he tears through the preserve, foot nearly catching over fallen branches. He doesn’t have time to trip and fall, every second he wastes is another he could lose Liam.
The hunters have Liam.
With his mind elsewhere, he doesn’t see the other person until he barrels into them. He hits the ground, back biting into the sharp branches underneath, shoulder twinging in pain when he tries to get up. He lifts his head, growling when the scent isn’t familiar. The other person on the ground draws a gun, a shot hitting where Theo moves from, rolling to the side in the leaves. Mud slips underneath his shoes when he gets up and tackles the hunter, wrestling the gun away. He finds himself falling, back slamming into the ground, head banging into a rock.
Something hits him in the forehead, dazing him more than he already is. A hand comes into his view and he grabs it, claws coming out and fangs dropping with a snarl. Bones snap when he twists his arm, hunter howling in pain. Theo uses them to pull himself up, driving his knee into their face, head snapping back and body falling back into the leaves.
He swipes the hair from his face, watching the hunter laying on the ground, groaning, holding his broken wrist and bleeding nose. “Where are the rest of you?” he growls. When he gets no answer, he plants his foot in the middle of the hunter’s chest, leaning over to dig his claws into his shoulders.
“You are your little runt are dead, ” the hunter spits out. He presses until his claws draw blood, hunter’s face twisting in pain. “When we destroy your Nemeton, it’ll chase the supernaturals out of Beacon Hills, to clear this place of your filth.”
Theo releases his grip, the hunter falling against the ground, sharp breath punched out. “They’re not my pack,” he says. “But this is their home too, and you’ll never get them to leave.”
Finding the Nemeton isn’t the hardest thing for Theo to do, but trying to run, tracking Liam’s scent, makes it so much worse. He keeps losing the trail, stopping to catch his breath and find it again, nearly sobbing every time he can’t. His lungs are screaming, legs burning, but he’s covering this part of Beacon Hills for the pack, for Liam. The cold bites against his skin, but he’s sweating enough to throw his jacket to the side, leaving it behind when he breaks into a run again.
The woods aren’t empty tonight, a few hikers out and about for the full moon, pointing up at the sky and stars high above the trees. It would be a beautiful sight, except Theo is too stressed to care. Normally, the moon in this position gives him more strength, more power, but right now, he’s never felt more powerless.
Liam’s chemosignals are dull but terrified and angry. They get so close together, but every time, the wind shifts and Theo loses him, stumbling behind, cries dying in his burning throat. He keeps going, pushing his body until he feels nothing except the cold and the roaring headache, ignoring every sense that isn’t fixed on Liam.
---
Liam hates full moon nights with every fiber of his being. It comes with a loss of control, locking himself in his room, emotions bouncing between wanting to punch his mirror until it breaks and crying until he almost throws up. He planned to go to bed early, avoiding the side effects, but instead, got shot through the shoulder and passed out. He’s waking up, chained to a tree, conversations floating around him. The hunters don’t address him, barely even spare him a glance. He puts his head back against the tree, eyes closing.
His shoulder pulses where the bullet is still lodged, blood leaking down his denim jacket. The chains are high enough around his chest and arms, pulling them back enough to strain the injury. He tries moving a few times, but his strength is sapped and nothing gives.
One of the hunters crouch in front of him, a haunting grin lighting her dark eyes. “Just sit tight for a bit longer, we’ll be starting soon.”
Not even a small sound comes out, his throat dry, eyes fluttering shut as she stands up to walk away. His jaw clenches, trying to force his eyes open but nothing happens, his body sagging against the chains as he lets out a pained breath. Laughter filters through his senses. He pushes it aside. The cold wind and pain in his shoulder muffles his senses.
His pack won’t find him like this.
The hunters are going to kill him without a fight.
---
Theo knows he’s getting closer when he hears trucks revving in the distance, headlights cutting through the dark fog of the trees. He stops running, gets low to the ground to take a breath, scanning the area around him. There’s scents colliding on him from all directions, fear, anger, confidence and glee cutting through. Positive emotions in this situation freak him out more than anything. He knows the hunters enjoy what they do, at least some of them.
But hurting Liam, they won’t enjoy. Because he’s going to kill them for it.
His muscles ache as he shifts, bone cracking and resetting, warmth wrapping his form and eyesight sharpening, senses dialing up to every little noise around him. He shakes out his fur and snakes through the trees towards the lights in the distance.
Liam’s scent doesn’t drop this time, even when the wind blows through Theo’s fur, hard enough to get the cold through his thick coat. He follows it through the trees, passing the first line of headlights without a problem, going deeper into the woods. The aura around him changes while he runs, air getting heavier and more potent with sound as he gets closer to the Nemeton.
He slows at the scent of blood stinging his nose, chemosignals of agony splicing in with it. Just beyond the bushes is a clearing, full of people, trucks, all circled around a tree stump in the middle. The power curling off it is nearly suffocating, to the point he wonders how they’re all standing around unaffected.
With so many hunters, and only one of him, he needs a plan. Get some of their attention, draw them away, pick people off one by one until-
His blood still when his eyes catch on the figure being dragged to the Nemeton, thrashing around and snarling. His own lip curls into a growl. Liam’s jacket is badly ripped, blood spilling down one sleeve, his feet flailing uselessly in the dirt. The hunters throw him on top of the stump. The beta manages to cut a few of them with his claws before they tie his hands above his head, lashing the rope to stakes in the ground. His ankles are similarly locked down, leaving him a squirming mess on top of the wood, chemosignals drowning Theo in fury and fear.
The plan won’t work. He throws it out and bursts through the line of brush into the clearing. All attention goes to him. Liam stops struggling, an angry shriek dying on his lips when he locks eyes with Theo, lips parting in surprise.
It doesn’t matter how long the hunters have been killing werewolves, in full shift form, he’s too fast for them. More lights shine on the area, trying to illuminate him so they can shoot better, but he tears through them without half a moment to think. When he gets closer to the Nemeton, his eyes fog, senses dulling with the amount of dark power surging from the roots. He shoves the feeling aside, barreling into another hunter, claws driving into his legs and taking him down to the ground.
He reaches the stump and hops up. Liam’s scent and the grin across his face is too appealing to not lean down to lick his chin, nose nudging at his cheek. He dips his head, teeth snapping the ropes holding the beta’s hands. Liam surges up when they’re free, arms flinging around Theo’s neck, entire body shaking. Blood is spilling from his shoulder onto his fur, but he moves closer, letting Liam calm down.
The hunters get too close for comfort, and Theo draws back, baring his teeth, eyes flashing when they reach the stump. He tackles the first, a blur of metal and fangs slashing through the air, leaving the hunter a mess on the ground when Theo’s done with him. The next hunter barely raises his gun when Theo hits him, claws raking all down his front. Something goes into his own side, drawing a low whine from his throat, but for a few seconds, it doesn’t stop him.
And then it hits him.
His body falls, chest tightening at the realization his legs won’t push him up again. A hand wraps around his snout, squeezing until his jaw aches. Someone else is pinning him down on the side, sharpness stinging against his legs.
He hears Liam yell his name, frantic. A snarl rips out of him, muscles rippling when he tries to move. It takes too much effort even to lift his leg a little, every part of his body like it’s been worked to death.
Voices are shouting all around him, but he only hears one. Hands are gripping at his fur, tugging too hard, but fear doesn’t set in until leather locks around his throat. Then, a muzzle slides over his snout, connecting to the collar. His head is still mostly on the ground, the pressure cutting it into his nose. He whines, louder when someone grabs him by the collar to pull him from the dirt. They drag him to the Nemeton, putting his prone body next to Liam, who’s bound down again, gag shoved in his mouth and new bloody marks on his shirt.
Theo whimpers, using all his energy to move his head just an inch, to bump his nose into Liam’s side. The beta drops his gaze to him, on the contraption around his mouth, keeping Theo’s senses dazed. A hand digs through his fur between his ears, forcing his head back, looking up at the hunter above them. She’s holding an ornate knife in the other hand, smiling down at them.
Something, most likely whatever poison is sliding through his blood, immobilizing him, is stopping him from shifting too. He can only let out low whines, limbs moving sporadically, muscles tensed up almost painfully.
“You really thought you could get through all of us?” she mocks, trailing the dagger across the muzzle, metal scraping metal, the sound digging into his ears, his confused senses. “I knew I could count on you to find him first,” she continues. “One werewolf is good, but one in full shift is even better .” The knife slides underneath the collar, blunt end tugging on it, pressing against his neck. “Monroe sends her best.”
This time, he does growl, head surging up enough to knock her hand back with his muzzled snout, huffing with exertion when he rests back down, eyes catching Liam’s. A hand rests against his side, pushing against his heaving ribcage. A needle goes deep into his flesh.
“Ready to die so the rest of you will leave this town for good?”
His vision blurs just before his body starts shifting, completely against his control. There’s not a time he can remember not having a hand on his wolf, working together, but now, he can’t stop it. His bones break and heal, fur sinking away, the air becoming colder, the wood underneath him rough against his bare skin.
He squeezes his eyes shut when someone caresses his shoulder. A shudder runs up his spine. He’s completely naked, for all the hunters and Liam to watch as he shakes in the cold. There’s still no fight left in his limbs when his arms are bound together in front of him. They leave him like that, lying on his side, shivering, curled in on himself and barely breathing. The forced shift has him gulping for air, throat burning and heart racing far too fast.
You fuckers.
His fist curls, claws digging into his palms. At the first drops of blood, warmth spreads through his entire body, eyes snapping open. He presses harder, biting his lip to keep his whimpers of pain back, going until he can’t feel anything else. Feeling crashes back into him, his arm flailing out, grabbing at Liam’s arm. He loses his breath completely but can’t stop. He withdraws his claws, shoves nausea away, and rolls to the side. The rough wood disappears out from under him as he falls the few feet to the ground, landing on his stomach.
Shouting fills the air again. He snaps the rope between his hands. When his eyes flare gold, his senses run back to him, wolf back within reach. A hunter grabs at his hair, but he gets up, knocking them to the side. He knocks the next hunter back in the stomach, lunging on top of him. He rips their jacket off them, pulling it around himself and zipping it, cold leaving his body when the soft fabric brushes his skin.
Liam’s bindings break easily enough when he pulls at them. He gets off the stump with a grunt, spitting the gag from his mouth and rubbing his wrists. Theo wraps his arm around his waist, helping him limp away. The hunters are regrouping, the sound of guns cocking hitting his ears.
They’ll get to Liam over my dead body.
The lead hunter lunges at them, dagger flashing. Liam kicks it out of her hands, and Theo shoves her back to the dirt, tugging them to the side before she can get up. He takes one of Liam’s hands and starts drawing out his pain as they stumble from the clearing, nearly falling when the agony hits him.
“Thank you.”
“I know no one cares about me, but I wasn’t going to let you die.”
Liam groans, clutching at his shoulder. The two get further out of the line of fire, gunshot echoes fading into the background, footsteps dying out when they use the maze of trees to shake the hunters off.
“How’d you shake off whatever they shot you with?”
“I…” he stops himself from lying when he sees blue eyes looking back at him, the boy still clinging onto him to keep himself upright. “If I didn’t get up, there was no one else to keep them from stabbing you. And I can’t watch that.”
“Knew you had a heart,” he mutters. “I’m so tired.”
He elbows Liam lightly in the side. “Stay awake. You’re not dying, not on my watch, got it?”
He nods sleepily, head lolling to Theo’s shoulder with a low sigh. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”
Theo snorts. The hunters are getting in their vehicles to chase after them, shouting over walkie-talkies and at each other. Theo knows these woods better than anyone. Liam might be lagging behind, struggling to even walk, but there’s no catching them.
“I don’t care what the rest of the pack says,” Liam goes on. “I like being around you.”
No shift of his scent or heartbeat indicates a lie, and Theo knows none of the McCall pack can control it anyway. His breath catches. “You’re injured and tired-”
“I don’t care. You’re a good person, Theo Raeken. Don’t forget it.”
Liam grabs Theo’s hand and squeezes lightly, his head picking off his shoulder. He tugs on him lightly, and Theo follows him, he always does, always will. The beta’s chemosignals change again as he starts off, jogging with a limp and his jaw clenched.
By the time he’s full speed running, hand around Theo’s own, pulling him along, he can’t smell or hear the hunters in the woods, long behind them. He can only hear their heartbeats and scents, tangled together as they sprint through a pitch-dark forest. It doesn’t matter how many people they send after them. Theo won’t let anything happen to Liam, and he knows the beta would do the same for him.
It doesn’t matter that they’re each other's downfalls. They fight better together, always have, always will.
Anyone who tries to test that will get an answer they won’t like.