Mob

~ ZEV ~

A single, slavering howl rose outside, quickly followed by a hundred more.

"Shit. SHIT."

Zev snapped his head around to make sure Sasha was covered, then peered out of one of the view holes. Sure enough, the males were moving away from the square and towards the fox hole—some, those with mates, or too old to care that they didn't have them—were trying to slow the others, to distract them. But the wolves paced the line of males that were attempting to hold everyone back and the numbers were growing. They would be there soon.

"Shit!"

"What's going on?" Sasha's head popped through the neck of her shirt and she yanked it down, her cheeks bright red and eyes shining. She was shivering with both desire and fear, and his wolf wanted to howl—and to snarl. To claim her. To fight and win.