Free Of Wings and Wolves by SM Reine Page A

flapping its stubby wings, and didn’t fall. She snapped halfheartedly at its ascending feet.
    Summer couldn’t bite a child. Even a child that looked like an unholy mix of raven and human.
    The creatures weren’t nearly as hesitant to attack. A tiny fist struck the back of Abram’s skull, and he sagged, instantly unconscious. He fell when they released him.
    He didn’t move when he landed.
    The bottom of Summer’s stomach dropped out.
    Please, just be unconscious .
    That left all three of the creatures to focus on her. They buzzed through the air and swarmed around her with flashing silver claws. She wasn’t ready for it. All the play-fighting with Abram could have never prepared her for such an assault.
    One of the creatures pinned her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her lungs. It was too strong to buck, even for a shapeshifter. The others crouched by her head.
    Claws descended toward her throat.
    A low explosion rocked the forest. Summer thought that lightning must have struck nearby until she saw the dark shape hurtling through the clouds.
    A man dropped from the sky and slammed into the dirt between the creatures. Rotting leaves and moss showered over them, the drooping branches shook, and the entire world trembled under his feet.
    He straightened and swept his wings wide. Each was longer than he was tall and shone with internal light. Summer’s eyes watered from the intensity. She couldn’t make out his features, but she thought that he almost looked like Nash Adamson.
    He slammed one of the creatures into a tree, then tossed another across the clearing as easily as though it were a sack of flour. The third raked claws down his bare, muscular chest, but there was no blood. He seized the creature’s throat and lifted it above him. “Balam,” he spat. The word was unfamiliar to her, but it fell from his lips like a curse. “You don’t belong here.”
    It responded in a high, trilling voice that made Summer’s skull ache. That wasn’t a human language.
    “If you hurt her again, I will shatter your bones,” the man said, and he hurled in against the ground.
    The three creatures took to the air instantly, shrieking in a shrill chorus, and whirled away in an explosion of glossy black feathers. The wildfire stench faded instantly. It was replaced by a much more familiar smell—more like the comfort of a fireplace in a cold winter.
    Summer tried to stand, but her legs weren’t working right. She was still bleeding.
    How was she going to drag Abram to safety if she couldn’t even get her paws under her?
    Her savior folded his wings against his back as he approached, dimming his radiant feathers. Her eyes adjusted quickly.
    It was Nash. He was as shirtless as the night that she had seen him on the balcony, but the wings affixed to his back were new. She must have been confused from the blood loss. Or she had snapped and started to hallucinate. Or maybe both.
    But Nash’s dry chuckle was definitely no illusion. “I thought I told you to go to the coffee shop.”
    Summer lost control of her second skin. Fingers emerged from her paws, fur fell away, her nose shortened. It was a lot colder without the protection of dense fur, and her lacerated skin burned.
    As soon as she had a mouth, she said, “I thought you said that you’re a human.” She groaned when Nash scooped her off the ground and stood.
    “I never said any such thing.”
    “What are you?” she whispered, struggling to focus on him as her vision darkened at the edges.
    The last thing she heard before passing out was a single word: “Angel.”
    Then she was gone.

seven
    Memories flitted through Summer’s dreams. Memories of bears, caves, and broken bones. Dragging Abram out of the ravine had been a two person job after he broke his ankle, and Gran and Uncle Scott prioritized getting him to the truck. That left Summer healing in the cave with no company but a dead bear.
    It couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes before Summer was