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people
    there were, pushing and shoving, constantly moving, and there were no
    signs anywhere.
    ―Reah.‖
    Looking sideways, I saw Roshan Tabir. He looked confused.
    ―I got turned around in here,‖ I told him. ―I need to find Logan.‖
    ―I know where he is,‖ he said, smiling at me before turning to look at
    Logan‘s sister.
    I made hurried introductions, and Delphine took the offered hand,
    pleased to meet the sheseru of the tribe of Rahotep.
    ―Thank you for helping Jin,‖ she told him.
    ―The pleasure was mine,‖ he told her sincerely, squeezing her hand
    for a moment before he released it to put an arm around my shoulders.
    ―Both of you come with me.‖
    He led us through the crowd, which was easier with him as a plow,
    the crowd breaking around him, giving us a clear path to walk. When we
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    reached the entrance to a long tunnel, I remembered it, the heavy grate that
    could be lowered jogging my memory.
    ―I smell Markel,‖ Delphine gasped, moving fast, rushing by us to a
    large door several feet away. She tried to open it, but it was locked.
    We all heard the yelling at the same time.
    ―What is that?‖ Roshan snapped, brushing her aside, trying the
    handle himself only to confirm that it was locked.
    ―Logan!‖ I yelled, rushing up between them, banging on the door.
    There was only a muffled cry in return.
    ―Markel!‖ Delphine screamed, and I heard the panic in her voice, the
    terror.
    ―Open it!‖ I ordered, and Roshan put his shoulder to the old wood,
    and the door buckled forward under his weight.
    Inside there were easily ten men, four of which held Logan pinned to
    the far wall with a fifth strangling him with a piece of what looked like
    silver wire. The man was wearing gloves to protect himself.
    Markel, in his panther form, was doubled over in the opposite
    corner, coughing up blood. His fur was shredded, ear torn, his body
    crisscrossed with bloody wounds. He had put up a hell of a fight.
    Roshan barked out names, and I registered that he must have known
    them to be able to do that, but the implications were lost on me. They were
    trying to kill my mate.
    As I charged into the room, I felt a flush of heat tear through me,
    heard my pounding heart like a train and had an instant change in
    perspective as my eye-level rose until I was looking down on the men.
    And then the screaming began.
    I swatted men away from my mate, turning to put myself between
    them and him. I heard my name called, but it was from a distance, so I
    ignored it. I knew I had shifted, felt cramped in the small room; it was
    hard to turn and maneuver. Normally I made a conscious decision to shift,
    but this time there was danger and it was done. The implications of that
    were disturbing, but even as I wondered what I had morphed into, I
    suddenly had trouble seeing.
    The room did not darken; everything just began to quickly fade. I
    saw colors one moment, washes, and shadows, but then, even as I
    squinted, trying to focus my vision, my eyes betrayed me and I was blind.
    I panicked; I needed to see the threat to Logan and, beyond that, Markel. I
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    had to protect Delphine, and I couldn‘t see. It was like being in a hot
    shower when the glass steams over, except I could not wipe the glass and
    see my own reflection. Fear tore through me at the same moment my other
    senses overwhelmed me.
    I heard every sound. The heavy breathing of the men, Logan
    grunting with the strain of fighting, the curses hurled at me, Delphine‘s
    sobbing. And then I was assaulted by the smell.
    It was horrible, the stench like old blood, before I was struck hard in
    the side. There was weight on me, and pressure, and I understood, even
    without benefit of my eyes, that I was being attacked. Men or panthers
    were on me, pounding against me, trying to force me down and
    scrambling to rip at me with teeth and claws. I felt edges scraping at me,
    digging for purchase, but it was like I had a shell. I could feel the battering
    but not the pain. Nothing dug into me. I was not gouged, no flesh or
    muscle was torn into. It was as though I was insulated, armored.
    I inhaled, searching for my mate, but there was only the scent of
    blood, and then something darted, seeking escape. There was no thought,
    only movement. It was caught, and the odor changed, went from panic to
    hysteria in a heartbeat. I had sensed fear in the past but never inhaled
    dread before, never categorized it as tears and blood