No one quite understood what they were seeing.

After the phone call they'd received at the hotel, Sadie had partly expected to pull up to a maimed lawn, an ambulance and a news crew, and maybe a few dead bodies if things didn't go as well as they did last time. But instead what they found upon arrival was Yui and the man she described as her alpha, long dark hair weaving down his back, brows sharp and precise like they were cut by a blade. Nicon, he was called. He stood there, looking impassive but never taking his eyes from the pond.

"Smelled him as we were passing," Nicon said. "Fate works in strange ways, don't you think?"

Sadie followed his gaze to the distance, where a black shape whirled around the skirting of the pond. If there was such thing as a cat and a gorilla mixed in one, it had to be the way Jaylin looked now. How he paced the ground with clumsy strides, charging towards the grazing pigeons. And when they took flight, he launched up into the air and batted at them with those long, briery claws.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tisper asked, her tongue still a bit heavy with wine while her bow dragged the ground by her side.

Matt squinted. "I think he's chasing birds."

Then that big wild beast loped down into the waters of the pond. He stood elbows-deep and dipped his face beneath the surface.

Sadie caught the glimmer of admiration in Nicon's eyes. "He's a magnificent thing, isn't it? God," he said in awe, "how terribly majestic."

Sadie cut back to the big black gorilla-cat, standing three-feet deep with his head in the pond waters. Bubbles popped to the surface.

"Not the word I'd use."

"I don't understand," Yui said. Sadie could hardly catch her little voice. "Is he... drowning?"

But Jaylin reared back on his hind legs, roared out in delight and dipped his face back into the water again.

Tisper wobbled a bit. "He kinda just looks like he's having fun."

"Well shit," said Matt. "What do we do?"

"We can't leave him here. We're lucky enough he did this at an hour where no one's around," Alex said.

"Yes," Yui agreed. "And that the park's ringed with trees. I don't think anyone's seen him yet."

Sadie watched the beast gallivant in the water, trotting a few feet and then dipping his face back in. She turned to Alex. "Any idea what he's thinking right now?"

Alex shook his head, watching the beast splash around to a new spot. They stood a good thirty feet away, silence squelching them all.

Then Nicon spoke, "It is a strange time. A crescent moon. You don't usually see this kind of transfiguration."

"So why is our friend a big, black, dog-bear thing?" asked Sadie.

"Sometimes stress can be a factor," Nicon said. "It's happened to a few of my wolves. Once to me."

"Quentin used to turn all the time after Anna died," Alex noted, "but I thought it was by choice."

Jaylin popped his head from the water, eying the glittering surface like he caught something moving beneath. He lunged and back under, he went.

A flash of revelation gleamed in Yui's eyes. "I wonder if he's searching for fish. Could he be hungry?"

"I didn't see him at dinner," Tisper pondered. "Is that really what all of this fuss is about though? He wanted a snack?"

Matt snorted out a sound. "Does sound like Jay. Either way, we gotta get him out of here, before someone pops in with a cell phone camera."

Tisper looked around to the others, and when no one gave any indication of a plan, she huffed out an unnerving sigh. Stepping closer, she took a training arrow from her quiver and aimed. Sadie was awed by her accuracy, even drunk as the arrow plunked into the water, inches from the lichund's head.

He shot up, water pouring from his blood-tinted mane. Those pale eyes set on them so still, Sadie felt a chill up her arms. Even if it was Jaylin. Even if he was truly good, staring into the eyes of a lichund was a terrifying thing.

"Jaylin," Tisper called to him. "Jaylin, come here. We have to go back, okay?"

The beast didn't move. He stood there, staring at them all, still as can be. Then his ears twitched to the side, and his head snapped in the direction of a squirrel bouncing its way up a barren tree.

Jaylin trotted from the water and cantered to the tree, reaching up with those massive hands as he stretched to full size. He had to be ten-feet tall, nearly reaching the lower-most branches. The squirrel scurried just out of his reach and bounced into a tree just beside it, and Jaylin hurried after.

"God," Matt groaned. "We'll be here all night. How the hell can somethin' like that suck so bad at hunting?"

Yui clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin. "It's so strange, isn't it? All the tales we've heard of lichund, and I never once thought they could be like... well, like..."

"Like a puppy," Sadie said.

Then a car veered into the grass, and before it had even come to park, the passenger door was swinging open and Quentin was stepping out, a bag slung over his shoulder. As he surveyed the situation, the moon poured an ember glare into his eyes—like that little flare of heat left in a pair of dying coals. Now that she thought about it, Nicon had one too—a slightly green shimmer, glinting from his pupils when he looked just the right way. It was like shining a flashlight into the forest and seeing only the reflective shine of beady eyes blinking back.

A man followed Quentin out of the car—the one who'd been playing the cello with him the night before. Sadie could recall him from every romantic historical fiction novella she'd seen suffocating the romance shelves at the library. The brawny, fair-haired knight, riding a white stallion into the sunset. His eyes glittered too. Blue, like the dark of the ocean.

Quentin brushed his way in front of the others, dropping the bag from his shoulder. "Jaylin," he called out.

The lichund looked to him—those yellow eyes like cuts of bone, pale straw in the moonlight.

"Jaylin," he called out again. "You have to stop."

Again, Jaylin stilled. Those cream-colored eyes just staring. Then he turned his attention back to the squirrel, deep long claws gripping down into the bark of the tree, splintering the wood as he tried to climb his way up.

"He's not listening to you," Nicon mused.

Quentin turned to him, rather abruptly and his voice flared as he said, "Yeah, no shit."

To hear it took Sadie by surprise. Quentin was only ever proper with his words.

Alex leaned into her, and confirming her suspicions, he whispered, "He's been drinking."

Wonderful. Just what they needed. A drunken alpha who couldn't control his own lichund.

"Jaylin," Quentin called to him again, but the beast ignored him.

"What's going on?" the blond man took stride beside Quentin. "Thought he was one of yours."

Quentin watched Jaylin from across the pond, steady eyes. "He is."

"Doesn't seem that way," Nicon said, once more with that satisfied tinge to his voice.

Quentin snapped out a fist and wrenched Nicon in my the shoulder of his vest. "Why are you even here?" he gnarred, pressing closer. "This doesn't concern you. I've told you before to stay the fuck away from my pack."

Nicon lifted his sharp chin and looked around to the others. "I don't see much of your pack here, Quentin."

Sadie felt the tension of the others, clicking together like cold magnets. Then Quentin wrenched him in harder. "They are my pack."

Then the blond was shoving his way between Quentin and Nicon. "Alright now. Hold on; you've been drinking." He gave Quentin a gentle shove back. Sadie could still hear that curt remark in her head. It sounded all wrong coming from Quentin. "Let's focus on the task at hand," the man said. "Get the kid in the car, that's all we gotta do."

Quentin brought his bag up and dug through the contents. "Can you shoot a vial with that?" he asked Tisper.

She raised her bow and gave the string a pluck. "I... don't know."

"Try," Quentin said, handing her a vial arrow like the ones she'd fired before.

She struggled to nock it onto her bow, but once she did, Tisper brought it to eye-level and drew the string back. "Lure him out from the trees," she said.

Quentin took a step forward, but the blond blocked his path with a strong arm. "I got a feeling he's not up for listening to you right now, boss. Let me try."

"Who's that? Sadie whispered to Alex.

He said it as quietly into her ear as he could; "James. He's one of the California patrols."

James was edging his way to the pond, where the large black beast resided on the other side, clawing off the bark of a tree once he'd failed to climb up the steep trunk.

James let off a whistle and Jaylin's ears perked. He turned his head slowly to the sound.

"That'a boy," James said, watching the generous size of the creature as it crept out from the tree lining. "Just a bit closer now."

And as soon as he stalked out in full, Tisper released her arrow. It shot through the air, zipping over the pond—but landing in the dirt just short of Jaylin, who reared back in a start.

"Shit," Tisper said. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm not used to—"

"It's not your fault," Quentin told her. He extracted another vial from his bag. "This is the last one I've got, we need to be careful."

"I think we might of just made things worse," said James.

In the distance, Sadie could see the wild fear in Jaylin's eyes. He was calculating them all, observing like they were his opponents. Like his only means of survival was to get away.

Quentin swept closer, rushing to the water's edge. But when Jaylin caught sight of him he lowered his front half to the ground and let off a low snarl—one that made Quentin stop and rock back in the dirt.

"Why is he doing that?" Sadie asked. "It's... Quentin."

"I don't know," Alex said. "I can't read him. Maybe—maybe Jaylin's not as close to the surface as we think he is."

"You mean that's not Jaylin?" Tisper asked.

"Ah," a sound of understanding came from Nicon. "A warden."

"A what?" asked Matt.

"A warden," Nicon said. "I knew they weren't only myth. I knew one would come to us when we most needed it."

"What are you talking about?" Alex hissed this time.

But before Nicon could give a proper explanation, Jaylin was charging through the waters, wading neck-deep in the pond until he'd reached the other side. He shook the water from his fur and stamped his feet into the ground. And then with a snarl—a deep rumble like the quiver of metal or the purr of an impending thunderstorm, he stared Quentin down. His ears pinned back, until only the sharp, cut gleam of his horns shown in the night. Then he charged forward with a caterwaul that made Sadie's heart hammer in her chest.

Matt was the first one to move, putting himself between Jaylin and Quentin—who was yanked a distance back by James, a protective hold on his arm.

Matt had Jaylin by the neck, arms wrapped around tight, face buried in his wet mane. "Jay," he kept saying. "Jay, it's okay." The beast didn't try to shake Matt off. He didn't try to move a single step forward, he just stood there letting Matt cling onto him—but his eyes were still on Quentin, snarling until those long thorny teeth flared in the dark.

Quentin stepped away from James, but he didn't dare move towards Jaylin. He stood still, the vial tucked in the curl of his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he said, so calmly—too calmly when Jaylin looked keen on ripping his face off. "I know you're angry. But you have to stay still, Jaylin. You have to stop."

The snarling quieted. His jowls relaxed and the lichund allowed Quentin to move closer. Allowed him to bring a hand up and touch the fur on his snout. "I'm sorry," Quentin said again. And then quickly, he stuck Jaylin with the vial.

The beast roared out, shaking Matt away. He swatted forward, claws catching Quentin's bicep as the alpha stumbled out of reach. He hit the ground and shoved himself out of the way as the lichund collapsed forward, imploding into a cloud of sheening red blood. In a heartbeat, they were all rushing to him—the stench of blood upsetting Sadie's stomach. Jaylin laid there in his own puddle of it, curled on his side and trembling, though it wasn't cold out at all. Quentin drew a fleece blanket from his bag and draped it over him.

"What's wrong with him?" Sadie asked. "He's shaking so badly."

"It's the mistletoe," was all Quentin said. He slid his hands beneath Jaylin, all at once tucking the blanket around him and gathering the boy up into his arms.

"Quentin," Nicon said, kneeling beside him. "You're bleeding. Let me—"

"Don't touch me," Quentin said—and god the way he said it. Like venom. Like every word was a spit of it. That was when Sadie saw the color on the arm of his shirt—deep, red-black stains leaking from gashes left behind.

"I'll drive them back," James offered. "We'll need to clean this mess up anyway. Should probably makes sure there's no CCTV in this place. "

Quentin said nothing. He stood and heaved Jaylin up in his arms. Then he carried the bloody boy off.