Branches whipped past Jeremy's face as he bounded through the forest, his massive paws slamming against the earth with rhythmic, thunderous beats. His lungs burned. Each breath came out in steaming huffs, fogging the cool night air. Behind him, the sound of pursuit never faltered—heavy footfalls and snarling growls that cut through the wind like knives.
It was still behind him.
He didn't need to look. He could feel it.
Bigger. Older. Meaner. The way it moved—controlled, almost surgical in its chase—told Jeremy all he needed to know.
He wasn't just being hunted.
He was being studied.
Jeremy veered hard left, his claws tearing through damp soil as he skirted a copse of thick pines. He knew the terrain here, barely—but enough. He vaulted a stream, his hind legs pushing off the rocky edge as the trees gave way to a slope. He slid, controlling the descent, his limbs absorbing the jarring bumps of roots and stones.
For a second, he thought he'd bought time.
Then—
Crash.
The grey werewolf plowed through the canopy, barely slipping on the slope, leaping high and landing just behind Jeremy in a plume of dirt and leaves.
Too close.
Jeremy twisted mid-run, pivoting on his good foot, claws lashing out. The other wolf caught the blow on its forearm, flesh tearing. It grunted—a low, human sound—and responded with a brutal shoulder charge. Jeremy went flying, slammed into a tree, and dropped to one knee.
Pain lanced down his side. Ribs—maybe cracked.
But he forced himself up.
The grey wolf didn't wait. It advanced slowly now, circling—like a boxer sizing up a wounded opponent.
Jeremy lifted his chin, nostrils flaring. He wasn't going to die here. Not in the dark. Not with Amy still out there, still looking for him.
He bared his teeth. "Come on, then."
The grey beast lunged—and they clashed again.
This time it was messier. Not like choreographed dance, but like two people in a bar brawl—desperate, wild, furious. They clawed and grabbed, slamming into trees, dragging each other through the underbrush. Jeremy hooked an arm under the beast's jaw and slammed his knee into its chest once, twice—then felt the breath rush out of him as claws raked down his back in retaliation.
They broke apart, panting.
The grey wolf's blue eyes glinted beneath the moonlight—burning with something beyond bloodlust.
Recognition.
"You know me," Jeremy growled, voice guttural in his half-shifted form. "Who the hell are you?"
No answer. Just a snarl.
The beast rushed again. Jeremy sidestepped, hooked the back of its ankle with his foot, and brought it down hard. He dropped on top of it, fists—clawed and shaking—raining blows across its face. Bone cracked. Flesh tore. He was winning—momentarily.
Then—boom—a knee caught his stomach.
Jeremy gasped.
Before he could move, the grey werewolf rolled them over and delivered a vicious elbow to Jeremy's temple. Stars exploded in his vision. The world spun.
Fingers—no, claws—wrapped around his throat.
Jeremy choked.
He grabbed a stone and smashed it into the beast's side. Once. Twice. Three times. The grip faltered. Jeremy shoved up with everything he had and broke free, stumbling to his feet, bleeding from the lip, chest rising and falling like a dying animal.
"Damn it," he hissed. "Why?!"
The grey wolf responded with silence—and then… the faintest curl of its lips. Not a snarl.
A smile.
That shook Jeremy more than any blow.
They circled again, slower now. Wounded. Breathing harsh. Their movements mirrored boxers after too many rounds—staggered, twitchy, erratic. Claws hung low. Shoulders hunched. Their eyes never left each other.
This wasn't just primal. This was personal.
The next exchange was short, brutal. Jeremy threw a hook—missed—and took a punch to the side that dropped him to one knee. The grey wolf reached for him, trying to lock a choke, but Jeremy slipped under, grabbed its arm, and flipped it over his shoulder with a practiced toss that spoke of training. This wasn't his first fight. He followed with a stomp to the ribs, then another, before the beast caught his foot, yanked, and sent him crashing down.
They both lay there a second. Gasping. Bleeding.
Then—together—they roared.
And charged.
The fight turned savage.
No thought. No hesitation. Just pain and fury and instinct. They clawed each other open. Blood coated their chests. At one point, Jeremy ducked and threw an uppercut so hard it lifted the grey wolf off its feet.
It landed badly—on its side, gasping.
Jeremy didn't wait. He grabbed it from behind and locked in a chokehold, his arms trembling from exertion. The beast thrashed, slamming them into trees, smashing into bark. But Jeremy held on, whispering through clenched teeth:
"You're not stronger than me."
Then the beast reared up and bit into his arm.
Jeremy screamed—real, human pain cutting through the fog.
He let go.
The wolf dropped. Both staggered. Bleeding. Twitching.
Then—Jeremy saw it.
The grey wolf's thigh—deep gash. Right leg trembling.
Weak spot.
Jeremy feinted left—then spun and slammed his elbow into the creature's ribs, and with the same momentum, drove a brutal crosscut down its chest.
Blood sprayed.
The beast reeled.
Jeremy pounced, driving his claws into the grey wolf's shoulders, pushing it to the edge of the clearing.
Then—it turned.
Retreat.
Jeremy stood frozen as the grey figure disappeared into the shadows between the trees.
Gone.
It was over.
He collapsed.
Bones began to crack. Skin peeled. Fur dissolved. His body shrank, contorting back into human form.
The pain of transformation paled compared to the agony already coursing through him.
Then—
"Amy?"
The voice.
He lifted his head.
She burst from the foliage, flashlight bouncing in her shaking hands.
She froze when she saw him—naked, bloodied, eyes wide and barely conscious.
Her mouth dropped open. "Jeremy…?"