Chapter 11

A shiver races down my spine when I hear another roar. It's closer this time.

Malcolm.

I quicken my pace, breaking into a run. I get to an outdoor restaurant and weave through the tables. "Sorry," I say when I knock down a fork.

Gazes draw to me as I rush forward. I'd made it only a few paces before shrieks sounded out behind me.

I spin around. While I'd carefully walked past the tables, Malcolm overturned them, mowing through throngs of people, canines bared in a savage snarl.

I gasp, speeding as I turn around. I don't make it far.

"Shit!"

A heavy weight lands on top of me. I am roughly turned around. My arms are shoved above me and held in an iron grip. My throat dries as I'm faced with the full force of Malcolm's glare.

He wedges his hips into mine. All around us, humans scream, running the other way at the sight of a berserk shifter. 

His grip tightens and he snarls in my face. "You do not run away from me!"