#winterpixels

Quentin glanced over his shoulder, confused. Had he done something wrong? He hadn’t thought so but Sam’s reaction told him otherwise. He stepped back behind Sam’s broad back unsure exactly what he had done wrong and positive that the charged air in the room had less to do with what he said and more to do with him.

A loud amused chuckle filled the room “keep an eye on your pup, I suspect some of my men might try to run off with him.” His eyes sparkled “he’d make someone a nice prize.”

Quentin felt his cheeks flush with heat and he hid his face behind Sam’s shoulders. Was he sending some pheromone in the air? Sam’s back muscles were stiff and as unyielding as granite. Why? Sam hadn’t even seemed to enjoy the kiss he had attempted earlier. Had he misunderstood? He was acting possessive and a little jealous. For some reason that sent a pleasant feeling throughout his entire body.

The Chief’s eyes narrowed “my men have been loyal to the Esteemed One since before you were born pup.”

“He’s young,” Sam spoke up “and inexperienced. He meant no disrespect.” He growled in warning as his senses warned him of movement around the room. “Have you not had to replace guards? Could some of them not be as loyal as you may wish them to be?”

The Chief’s growl rumbled loud in the room, rattling the windows. “Yes that is a concern,” he did not elaborate and Sam was smart enough not to push for more.

Quentin moved around Sam, eyes lowered offering submission to the Chief the way Sam had taught him. “Please forgive me. I meant  no disrespect to you or your men. I only wished to impart information.”

The Chief of Adam’s guards nodded to his men ‘find their trail.” His men snapped to attention filing from the room intent on finding the girl and if not her then her trail.

“Can you handle things here?” he asked Sam who was still focused on the wolf pup.

Turning Sam glared at the Chief “yes.” His keen werewolf senses telling him the remaining men were interested in something he had no intention of giving to them. He moved so that Quintin was behind him. “Are you going after the girl?” he asked.

“Yes there are those that wish to make her the next Esteemed One,” he rumbled his disapproval filling the room.

Quentin took comfort in the safety Sam offered him. He was all too aware to speak was to bring the attention of every man in that room. Swallowing “the men who attacked us …. they were werewolves.”

“What?” the Chief’s voice shook the windows.

Swallowing audibly Quentin took a step forward, leaving the protection Sam offered to face the Chief. “I may be a pup but I do know another werewolf when i meet one.”

“My name” he repeated “is Quentin not kid.” This time when he spoke there was less fear and more irritation. “What did you expect? A tantrum?”

“Something like that” he admitted sitting back “it’s not every day you tell someone they’re going to become a werewolf.”

Struggling to sit up Quentin hissed as his wounds protested at the movement. “I don’t see how whining is going to help. If it meant I wouldn’t become a werewolf well then I’d throw a royal fit.” He gave his companion a searching almost hopeful look.

Sam inspected the prone human. Pale skin, fit, purple hair. On closer inspection he found gashes that were caused by more than running into tree branches. Teeth marks. Which meant only one thing.

“Help me” the human’s voice was low and raspy. “Please” he pleaded, reaching for him.

“Lay still” he snapped touching the man’s shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to help you.” Taking the remnants of the man’s tattered shirt he ripped it into strips. The strips he used to bandage the wounds in his side.

The ground shook beneath his feet knocking him down. Rolling to the side as trees fell around him. The screams intensified as did the howls. He hoped that meant their prey had gotten free or was still fit enough to fight. The sudden silence was worse than the screams.

“By a pack of werewolves” he stated noting the way the man looked up at him, shock in his eyes. He gave him a stiff smile trying to ease some of his fears. “I think the majority of the pack is under those trees,” he nodded towards the fallen trees behind them.

Lifting a hand, the man pressed it to his eyes. “I think they…” he gulped “bit me. Does that mean? Will I …”

Squeezing his shoulder Sam sighed “I’ll help you through it.”

“How” the young man gazed up at him. Fear turning his pupils into pin pricks. Taking a deep breath clearly shoving his terrors aside “okay.”

Smiling Sam nodded “you’re alright kid.”

“Quentin” he corrected.

Cautiously Sam stepped from his patrol car. Frowning at the tree laying across the road. His heart was beating rapidly at how close he had come to being smashed beneath it.

Even with his werewolf strength he couldn’t move it. It wouldn't do any good either. The front tires were flat along with everything under the hood. Smoke billowed from beneath it.