11/28/2020
A/N: Lizz had asked if I was on A03 and I am, under the same pen name. This is the only story on that account, though. I just felt there was a more active Wolfblood fandom community on that site, so I created an account to publish the story there as well. Thank you to everyone who reads the story.
Chapter 7: Between Hearts and Packs
Rhydian had to keep checking his wrist watch to confirm that time was in fact still pressing forward. In the last twenty-four hours Rhydian had been an audience of one to his internal debate. What to do with piece of paper that contained the address of one, Addie Heart, aka Maddy Smith?
Standing in the middle of Piccadilly Station, his fingers trembled as he carefully traced the letters of the address. Surely, once he found her, he would again see Mr. and Mrs. Smith. He would have his pack back. He could picture Mr. Smith with his soft smile, greeting him with a firm handshake and a strong hug. And Mrs. Smith, titling her head to one side in amusement as she worked to finish preparing supper. And then Maddy racing toward him, matching his own elation at finding each other. Her small frame overshadowed by his, her arms looping around his neck until finally the distance near-nonexistent, they would finally share a kiss.
Rhydian let out a wavering breath,"Maddy."
He would find her.
His leg bobbed, catching the wary eye of an elderly woman wearing a hand-quilted shawl. Crossing his leg over his knee in a show of nonchalance, he chewed his lip and looked out the large rectangular windows at notifications from Underground security, advertisements for cologne, and the newest movie posters. The car shuttered as it began it's journey, soaring through the darkened tunnels.
Rhydian sighed more the once to the discontent of the woman across him. Eventually, the cars jostled as the train rolled to a halt. Rhydian heard the ding of the doors opening and suddenly remembering it was his stop, he hopped out at the very last minute, watching the underground train pull away.
While ascending up the steps to the surface again, Rhydian was met by a stranger wanting down the very same time. The blond was pushed aside by a burly, stout man that appeared to be preparing to go on holiday as he dragged a small carry on behind him. The man mumbled something of an insult at the young man blocking the path. Reaching topside, Rhydian scooted under the awning that lined the corner shoppe.
"I can't do this," he scolded himself. What had he been thinking? He turned about-face and retreated back to the underground entrance to the Tube. He would return to Stoneybridge and call the others so they could properly plan, but as he stepped up to the gate and extracted his Oyster card from his back pocket, he paused. Rhydian shook his head, there was no time to waste. What if their little break-in at the auction house sparked some type of counter measure to steal Maddy away again? The young Mr. Morris spun around nearly colliding with a petite woman. They shuffled side-to-side a few times before she let out an exasperated sigh and stood with her hand on her hips. Rhydian laughed nervously, much to the dismay of the woman, and awkwardly squeezed himself between the gate and her to remove himself as an obstacle. He reemerged back onto the street and ducked into the small coffee shop at the corner.
Exiting the coffee house, holding a piping hot cup of coffee, he exhaled. "Okay, take a walk, and then you decide, find Maddy . . . or go back and tell the others . . ."
Rhydian crossed several streets, then meandered through a park before realizing where he was. Just across the way was a studio with a large window display, the name spelled out in curvy writing, encompassed by a large heart. He nearly crushed the cup in his hands, knowing that he let his guard down and somehow his inner wolf had steered him there.
Heart & Soul Photography.
Huffing, Rhydian removed the white lid and peered inside, nearly a third of a cup left. Discarding the lid, he downed the remaining liquid in one go along with his better judgement. The cup followed the lid into the waste bin; he jogged across the street and stood outside the well-lit studio. "Here goes nothing," he murmured to himself as he tugged on the door handle.
Rhydian stepped into a warmly lite gallery. A receptionist desk was station only a few steps away, to his right a glossy white wall was the back drop to several pristine looking framed photographs. To his right were black leather chairs with a glass coffee table center stage. On top the contemporary glass table were thin, black leather bound albums purposefully placed as if toppled dominos. Feeling underdressed and self-conscious, he rubbed his clammy hands on his stained denim jeans, and exhaled loudly. No one was sitting at the receptionist desk . . . no one was around. Rhydian contemplated turning around, but spotted from the corner of the waiting area a small spherical orb attached to the ceiling, which rotated and fixed on him. Great, now he couldn't leave.
After pacing the length of the room and still no one to address him, he seated himself in a chair, taking in the scent of strong leather polish, he picked up one of the hardback albums and opened it. The first photo inside was a black and white still, 35mm, the lighting just so to create the perfect silhouette of wolves moving retreating to their dens in the early morning, dawn just leaking above the horizon. He knew that trademark technique, it was her favorite. He flipped to another of a grown man in his mid-fifties - Rhydian surmised - grey streaks fingering through his dark quaffed hair. A tan fitted suit dressing his lean frame as he twirled a younger woman with dark, nearly black hair that billowed out like her summer dress, it appeared they were at some type of wedding or formal function, by the decorations adorning the dance floor. He continued perusing through a few more that were printed in vibrant colors, until he reached one of a young woman in a wheel chair, poised to look over the shoulder of the photographer, the bluest of skies shared the backdrop with some square homes inlaid into the hillside behind the subject. She looked so regal, as if she was sitting on a throne, not a wheelchair.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Rhydian snapped the book shut and shot to his feet.
"I'm so, so sorry, sir," apologized the stout blonde in front of him. "I didn't mean to startle you." Gesturing to the album in his hands, "Her work is breath taking. I, myself, have gotten lost in her pictures too. She captures what I feel is overlooked beauty. It's like . . ." her forehead wrinkled, pushing her glasses up on her nose as she struggled to explain the feelings Maddy's artwork evoked. Waiting for her to finish her thought, Rhydian connected the woman with the picture he had just been studying.
"You're the girl," he blurted out, immediately paling at how rude that sounded.
The woman sighed, but not in a way that embodied annoyance, but silent joy. "That's my favorite one. And not because I'm the subject. It's just . . . I feel strong when I look at it," she shared with Rhydian, a faraway look on her face.
"She seems to uncover the truth, the essence, see things we wish we could in ourselves," he added.
"Yeah, precisely," she agreed, winking at him. The conversation coming to a natural lull, she slowly rolled back and steered herself to the desk.
Rhydian carefully returned the book and joined the woman at the desk. "So, Mr. Greer, correct?"
Rhydian blanched, but recovered quickly.
"Are you not - "
"No! No," he calmed himself, "It's just is so formal, I always think of my old man." He waved a hand over his worn jeans and scuffed boots as if to further support his claim. She giggled. "You can just call me - " and it was then he realized he now needed to supply a name, "Rhydian." It felt like minutes, his heart beating in his ears, his throat closing as he waited for her to uncover his ruse.
"Okay, Rhydain," she responded, trying out his name as if eating exotic cuisine for the first time. "Is that middle name?" She asked and waved him to follow her through the door that led deeper into the studio.
"Hm? Uh, yes," he mumbled.
"You're a little early," she commented, and he wasn't sure if she was fishing or just making conversation. Rhydian swallowed loudly, if he was early, then the real Mr. Greer was going to appear at some point.
Rhydian cleared his throat, suddenly noticing there was an awkward hush in the conversation. "My apologies, my mind was elsewhere," he explained, feeling Mr. Geer was probably a tad too sophisticated than to use the peasant word 'sorry.' "It's been a chaotic sort of day. I must have mistakenly recorded the time incorrectly on my blackberry. Again, my deepest apologies for the inconvenience. I must look like a right old . . . uh, fool," Rhydian grinned, his teeth pressed together in a forced smile.
"Happens to all of us," she shrugged off. "Would you like a coffee or tea? Water?"
"Ah, no, I'm fine," he breathed. She stopped outside the second to last door on the right, and pressed a small button, the door opening to an empty office. She must had seen him deflate, as she quickly rushed, "She'll be in just a minute, she must have stepped away for a moment . . . I think I heard our framer, Johnathan, speaking in the next room. It's probably to her."
Rhydian nodded and took a seat inside. She quietly exited the room, leaving him to his thoughts.
The room was a soft cream color, with plush tan chairs and a settee against the wall to accommodate for more patrons, maybe families. Large framed pictures hung in the office, evenly spaced around the room. Across the way was a few shelves with different plaques and trophies recognizing the artist's work. He stood, waltzing over to one of the framed pictures and viewed a young couple with their backs to the camera, walking along the beach. The woman's bridal train gently combing the soft sand as gentle waves reached out to them. Rhydian couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, taking in the image of the newly weds. Rhydian closed his eyes and inhaled, relishing in the smell of the room. In spite of the carpet shampoo, or the diffuser that spritzed lavender into the room every few minutes, it smelled like Maddy. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, which perhaps was the problem. As he opened his eyes, yellow piercing irises looked back at him in the reflection of the glass. "No," he whispered, "Not now!" He couldn't believe his wolf was pushing to take over. There was no threat, he was even doing as IT wanted. He was finding Maddy!
Before he could think of something to help him calm down, the door opened and suede, midnight colored ankle boots waltzed into the room. The heels lazily hitting the wood floor, each stride resounding in Rhydian's ears as the person wearing them continued to enter the room, closing the door behind her. "Mr. Greer, how are you?" she asked, not looking up from the portfolio opened in her hands.
Rhydian swallowed, but then relaxed, this was Maddy - his Maddy and surely she would not be intimidated by his eyes. Taking comfort in that thought, he turned to face the girl - woman - he had been searching for nearly ten years for.
And woman she was. Her face was more defined, the last bit of childhood having faded, expressive hazel eyes searching the paper in front of them, her face framed with sculpted curls, pinned back in a half-updo. Bright, eye-catching pink highlights layered throughout her long hair as if it were natural, calling to be noticed. Her slender frame carried a toned body of someone that exercised regularly. Gone away were the pullover sweaters layered over long sleeve button-ups. She was dressed in a black leather skirt and matching jacket, a soft-white, low cut cowl neck sweater framed a necklace that dangled a large obsidian pendant that was nestled at the cusp of her cleavage.
Rhydian's mouth opened and closed trying to form words, if nothing else, rid himself of the cotton mouth he was experiencing.
She took another moment to review the portfolio in her hands, having not yet seen Rhydian. She continued inside the room, breathing noisily through her nose, a mix of contentment and mild curiosity. What couldn't have been more than a few seconds felt like an eternity and in that time, Rhydian had nearly expensed every ounce of his energy to not rush at her and envelope her in his arms, press a kiss to her glossy, red lips that he was sure would take her breath away.
She finally looked up and jumped, dropping the folder, prints and notes scattering about the floor with a swoosh. Rhydian nearly howled in excitement until he recognized the fright etched on her face.
"Uh, your - your eyes are . . . that's . . . I've never seen . . ." she trembled, visibility shaking.
Rhydian's mind stumbled, scrambling to understand the reaction. Looking about, because perhaps someone had followed her in, and she was just feigning she was scared, he searched around the room. But, it was only them. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped forward. "Maddy, it's me!" he proclaimed, his arms stretched out wide awaiting for her fall into them.
"Excuse me?" She retreated several steps, her back pressed against the shelves.
"I - uh," Rhydian backpedaled, suddenly feeling he was traversing unsteady ground, and his senses firing on all cylinders that something was wrong, very wrong! He exhaled slowly, "Maddy, it's me . . . Rhydian?" He searched her face, but she looked anything but pleased at his approach. "Maddy?" he broached gently, reaching for her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Mr. Greer?"
Rhydian looked at her like he had just been slapped across the face. "Maddy?" He was about to reiterate that 'It's me', but if that hadn't worked the first two times, a third didn't feel like it would increase his chances at being recognized. Rhydian furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of it all.
In the meantime, the woman inched back. "I don't know who-who you think I am?"
"You're Maddy Smith," he pointed definitively. "I'm your -" At this Rhydian paused, what was he to her? It's not like they really had the time to discuss their relationship status prior to her leaving. Was he her boyfriend - they had kissed? Friend? Ex-boyfriend? That felt worse than friend, and so Rhydian nixed the last one from the list. A long silence had fallen them, Rhydian realized. "I'm Rhydian, part of your pack."
"My what?!"
Crestfallen at her reaction, he hesitantly reached out like one would a frightened animal.
"We need to get you to Segolia. They'll know how to help you." Perhaps doing this alone was a poor choice, Rhydian considered at that moment as he watched Maddy pressed herself into the shelves behind her as much as physically possible. Sighing in resignation the he was just going to have to take control of the situation and make her understand, he pressed on. "We need to hurry. They caught me on camera already," he pled, clasping her wrist.
"Good!" she declared. "Now let go of me!" she screamed, trying to wrench her hand free.
"Maddy," he said firmly, unable to suppress the growl that followed. He pulled her close, claiming her other hand in his, "Are they - is someone making you act this way?" he whispered.
The photographer slammed her foot hard on his instep, causing him to release his hold, and hobble backward. Rhydian looked down at the offended foot wondering if it was possibly broken, which in hindsight was a grave mistake. As he looked up, he was met with a the sharp end of one of those glimmering awards. Rhydian landed on all fours, blinking rapidly as he tentatively touched his eye. Somewhere behind him he heard Maddy scurry out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Call the police!" she shouted, the click-clacking of her heeled boots echoing in the corridor.
Rhydian hissed as he planted weight on the tender foot and pulled himself to a standing position courtesy of the expensive sitting chair beside him.
Dabbing his fingers to his brow again, he examined the crimson coloring staining his fingers. "Damn it," he mumbled. He burst out of the room and raced (to the best of his ability) back to the lobby.
As he neared the door back to the waiting area, he came to a halt. He could hear the receptionist addressing Maddy. But it wasn't Maddy she was calling her. It was Addie.
"Addie?" he breathed, the name on the paper flashing in his mind. What was happening? Rhydian stumbled back, covering his ears as if he didn't hear it, it wouldn't be true. "This is all wrong," he murmured. Yet, more than that, he needed to escape and back through the lobby wasn't an option. Thinking as quickly as his mind would process, Rhydian recalled a back door in the opposite direction. Gruffly turning around, he was surprised with a painful mist. It burned, dropping the Wolfblood in his tracks.
Rhydian coughed, and his eyes watered with such severity he couldn't see. His sense of smell was distorted, congestion overtaking his breathing. Foot steps scampered passed him and he could hear a young man - Rhydian surmised the framer, Johnathan - informing a barrage of people he had pepper sprayed the man they believed might be drug addict trying to rob them.
As if it couldn't get worse, Rhydian felt like he collided with a train as several officers tackled him for the second time in one week to the floor. Hands, many hands, turned him over, and cuffed him securely, his face pressed to the cool wood.
Rhydian leaned against the cool wall of the cell, hoping to subside some of the swelling. He had gotten a glimpse of himself while he was treated by the prison physician before being moved to another room for processing. His lips were busted open and swollen from kissing the floor - he was lucky not to have lost any teeth, his brow was so bloated with fluid and swelling, it hung slightly, hindering his vision. His eyes were red and his nose continued to run, though it was starting to finally lessen. No surprise that a "nut case" as he had been dubbed was not provided a single Kleenex, so his sleeves were crusted and disgusting. There was a tear from where the breast pocket of his long sleeve thermal he was wearing hung by only a few threads. Flecks of blood where his lips dribbled blood spotted his shirt. And yes, Maddy, better known as Addie, had fractured his metatarsal in his foot. He almost wished the pepper spray had also clogged his hearing so he couldn't listen to the laughter as the officers recounted his arrest to their fellow partners.
Rhydian watched the cell fill with a warm blood orange, and knew it would be growing dark. Just as he resigned himself to staying overnight, an older brunette woman with deep set crows feet approached, unlocking the door and calling his name. Rhydian slowly rose, but didn't move immediately, unsure if he was to follow or not. The woman peered around the door she had been holding and gestured for him to exit. "Come on! Let's go!" she barked. The plump guard stepped back, cuffing him before guiding him down the corridor to the front of the station. "You've been released. Someone has friends in high places," she harrumphed, eyeing him suspiciously. Rhydian immediately knew who "friends in high places" was and he nearly begged to remain locked up. Rubbing his wrists when his hands were finally free, he was gobsmacked to see not Dacia but Jana, her arms crossed over her chest and impatiently tapping her foot. Jana's shocked expression said it all, but apparently that didn't stop her from making her thoughts clear. "You look like shit," she said flatly.
"Right," he agreed, hobbling after her. He could feel the anger emanating from her in waves as he walked behind, both exiting the police headquarters into the last bits of daylight.
Rhydian grunted and hissed, but resisted asking her to slow her pace. He wasn't sure where she was directing them; however, he thought it best to keep that question to himself. After some minutes of crossing streets and turning several corners, they were ambling through a long, cavernous underpass. Rhydian pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to hide face from the occasional passerby. Limping through the expansive tunnel, he gave a cursory glance about the space, inlaid lighting illuminating the walls into the hallow of the cave-like tunnel. He discovered the interior landscape covered in graffiti, every brick colored with an artist's touch, a twenty-first century Sistine Chapel. He reckoned maybe a hundred artists had passed under and dared to leave a piece of themselves, different paints and styles canvased the underbelly of the pass. Some cried for social justice, some tokens of respect to long-gone heroes, and others snapshots of pop culture nearly forgotten. Rhydian could see the beacon of a street lamp in the distance, signaling that his journey through this temporary reprieve of his senses was nearly over. Emerging from the underpass, he came to the startling realization that Jana still hadn't spoken a single word. At this, Rhydian's patience had soured.
"Jana," he called, his voice bellying frustration. "Talk to me - something!"
"Really?" She whipped around so quickly, he fumbled back on his heels, very close to falling over. "You're so lucky I intercepted the police transmission and was able to hide it from Dacia. I could get in real trouble, Rhydian."
Before he could stop the words from pouring out his mouth, he snapped, "I didn't ask for your help." He crossed his arms, looking more a petulant child than a man in his mid twenties.
Her hands balling into fists, she physically shook with anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?! I did you a favor, you ass!" She shoved him, and he grunted at the push. It was quiet as each stared at the other, the night giving way to a respectable drizzle that threatened to turn into more.
"What - for the love of the Great Wolf Spirit - were you thinking? Really?"
"I found her," he breathed.
Jana's mouth hung open briefly before finally uttering, "Maddy?"
He nodded.
She turned away from him, rubbing her face in frustration, an over-the-top sigh that bordered on a growl escaping her. "You selfish bastard, Rhydian," she spat, pulling her hands away from her face to glower at him. "You really are," she grumbled. "I thought for years that it was brave how far you would go for your friends - how you didn't care what traditions were broken or authority challenged, but really," at this the her voice hitched and Rhydian who had been rearing to argue collapsed inside when he saw her fighting back tears, "it was all about you . . . just to get what you wanted."
Rhydian swallowed, unsure what to say, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Jana looked away, and breathed. "To think I admired you," she continued, letting that loaded statement hang in the air. Rhydian knew, to some level, she was talking more about their short-lived "courting" in which they shared but a few chase kisses and long nights just the two of them - him introducing her to the Natural's world. Rhydian was pulled back to the conversation by her voice, "and in some way I tried to emulate that, until I realized how selfish it all was. Wolfbloods are better as a pack, 'for the pack, as a pack''. Rhydian remembered bitterly his mother using that very saying as an answer to his complaints when he first tried living as Wild Wolfblood. "You couldn't jut wait, could you?"
"I didn't have a choice!"
Jana rolled her eyes at his emphatic protest. "I doubt that. You felt like you didn't have a choice, but you did. And what about doing this as a pack. Tom, Shannon . . . me! You know how important this was to all of us. Gone mucked it up now, didn't ya?"
Rhydian scowled, but fused his mouth shut by sheer will. He needed to take action or risk losing his abilities, or worse, his mind. But, Rhydian wasn't prepared to share the last part and so he just stared at her.
She took a calming breath and regained her composure. "I need to get back to Segolia . . . maybe I can do some damage control. Damn it, Rhydian," pinched the bridge of her nose, her face scrunched up as she thought. "You okay to get home from here? Straight home?"
Rhydian nodded.
"Jana, I'm - "
"Rhydian," she cut off, "I love you." His eyebrows shot up into his hairline in shock, she had never said it to him before. "You're my mate," she added, watching him visibly relax. "You're part of my pack, but . . ." she paused, letting out an audible sigh. "Ah, let's face it. You're going to do whatever you want. Just remember our pack also includes Shannon and Tom, and for me, Segolia too." Rhydian frowned at the mention of the Wolfblood organization. "Pout all you want," she chastised. "You may not have the forethought to care, but I do. I won't allow your bull-in-a-china ship mentality put us all in danger. I want to figure out what happened to Maddy and her family too, but not at the cost of our friends, our pack."
He nodded, watching her disappear round the corner of an abandoned building and back toward civilization.
Rhydian knew the best choice was to go home. Rest. He was still limping, and his face look like he had been a fight with his hands behind his back. The redness had begun to fade, but the swelling of his lips and his eye were still very present. He probably looked as much a monster as people often thought of Wolfbloods. He needed to go home.
Yet . . .
Finding a small park that was bisected by a thin waterway, he sat against a round English Oak, letting his head tip back against the solid trunk. He sat there for nearly an hour, allowing himself to commune back with nature.
Rhydian exhaled and then with a determination unlike earlier, he heaved himself up and returned to the studio. How he would approach her was unknown to him, but he needed to understand what was happening. Was she being forced to act as if she didn't know him? It was the only solution that made sense. Rhydian lingered in a clothing store, until it became blatantly obvious he had no intention of purchasing anything. Meandering back outside, he walked up the street to a nearby deli.
From his post at the long counter that face the window, he watched the studio. As he finished his crisps, he noticed the lights flicker off. Understanding that as being his cue to move, he tossed the remainder of his meal in the bin and vacated.
Addie had her back turned and was locking up. Finished, she dropped the keys in her small backpack and looked both ways before crossing the street to enter the Underground. Rhydian smothered the voice inside his head that eerily sounded like Jana's, and followed her to the train platform, keeping enough distance as to not be noticed. He hurriedly swiped his Oyster card and for a mere second panicked that he lost her before catching her scent descending down the stairs to a lower tier. He gambled down the steps and around a corner, quickly ducking into an alcove as he realized she had suddenly stopped. The train arrived in a rush and he watched her board the car. Part of him wanted to scream for her being so ignorant of her surroundings, if he was a stalker - which he wasn't - he could have easily gotten the drop on her. Listening to music (that he could easily hear without needing his Wolfblood abilities), her head bobbing to the beat, her concentration completely on the illuminated screen in front of her, she linked her arm around the metal grab pole and continued to chew her lip as she caught up on what she missed that day. Rhydian hitched a ride on the car behind, carefully positioning himself next to an elderly man wearing a pin-stripped suit, reading a newspaper.
It wasn't long before he saw her exit onto the platform and ascend the steps onto the street. Rhydian was only about 100 paces behind her, his foot throbbing to the point he nearly conceded forgoing meeting her. As he continued his pursuit, he contemplated the best method to approach her. As the ideas came and went, he stumbled as a horrific thought escaped to the forefront of his mind. What if there was someone waiting home for her? Rhydian hastily recounted the small time they had interacted, desperately trying to recall if he spotted a wedding band. Not all Wolfbloods believed in such ideals as gold rings dictating partnership; though, some still favorited tribal necklaces with pendants made of gemstones, and some very traditional Wolfbloods still believed in the ritual marking of another's mate to permanently make known their beloved was taken. "The necklace," he whispered. Could it be? Was that the reason she was acting like she didn't know him? Rhydian began to pull at his hair, mounting anxiety pulling his attention away from his mission to reconnect with Maddy - his Maddy.
Rhydian demanded his tired muscles push to shorten the distance between he and Maddy. Watching her climb the few steps to her front door, his window of opportunity to speak with her was rapidly closing. A side-stitch threaded itself up his right abdomen and his foot screamed to be chopped off and left behind, still Rhydian pressed on, until . . . a scent tickled his finely tuned nose. Coming to an abrupt stop - much to his body's relief - Rhydian awkwardly maneuvered in a circle, his eyes searching for the source. The street had been mostly empty, few inhabitants of the neighborhood seemed interested leaving the coziness of their homes.
Rhydian swallowed, his mouth tasting stale, he wished he had water to drink. While he had been following Maddy, someone had been following them. The jingling of keys played a soft tune, garnering his attention. He watched as she inserted her house key into the front lock and turned the door handle. His mind distracted with worry as to what lay beyond the threshold, he almost missed the dark hulking figure that passed in his peripheral. Rhydian slowly turned his head, his eyes registering not one but two figures lurking in the dark alleyway across her home.
For just a second, Rhydian wondered if Segolia had sent agents to follow him but as he took a deep breath, his eyebrows shot up and every nerve fired signals to his brain to move. Four red eyes reflected like brilliant rubies in the dark, tainted sharp teeth dripped with salvia. Rhydian felt like his legs were encased in cement, his entire body frozen by what he was seeing. Two beasts, taller than the average man emerged into the warm yellow street light. Their broad frames compounded by the layering of lean muscle. They slinked along the edges of the street light, moving soundlessly as if floating. Their backs arched like that of wolves prepared to leap at their unsuspecting kill. Rhydian followed their line of sight to Maddy, who was now about to close her front door, unaware of it all.
Rhydian took a calming breath, his fingers twitching in anticipation, and then he burst forward, doing his all to block everything else but Maddy from his mind. The creatures, his foot, his side - everything pushed to the back of his mind. Understanding his intentions, the two beasts emerged fully into the light the lamp posts provided and raced toward Maddy.
Rhydian continued to sprint forward, dumbstruck by what he was seeing. There was no other option, he needed to get to Maddy first and protect her.
At whatever cost.