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“I don’t know. He’s not really my boss. I just met him. He paid me to help him.”

Anger boils hot and wild in blood at the same time lightning cracks across the sky. “Paid you to do what?”

The man must think being honest will save him, because he babbles on, holding nothing back.

“He paid me to scare Caspian. Threaten him. Mess up his place. Get him to sell.”

The first raindrops land on my face, and I wipe them away from my eyes with the back of my clawed hand.

“What are you?” the man asks, his voice soft and scared.

I ignore his question. “What do you mean by ‘mess up his place’?”

“Cut some fences. Maybe kill a few of his sheep. Break a few windows. Anything to make him realise he’ll be better off without the hassle.”

I see red, my hand swiping across his face, claws tearing at his flesh in one swift movement. He makes an awful wailing sound, then collapses, his hand clutching his bleeding skin.

“It’s not just me. He pays well.” The man’s words are slurred, blood pooling in his mouth. “He won’t stop.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” I raise my claws again and he flinches, tears streaming down his face. “I really don’t know. Please. I won’t tell anyone.”

I consider letting him go, but I can’t shake the reminder of his hands on Caspian, and how much it had upset him after. There’s also something else playing on my mind.

“You said he paid you to do these things to Caspian’s home.” I pause, hoping his next answer is not what I suspect it will be. “Besides that day in the bakery, what else did you do?”

The man looks down, his breaths stuttering out of him. He knows I won’t like his answer. And he’s right. The words that pass his lips uncoil something fierce inside of me. With one hand and a growl that starts at the base of my stomach and vibrates through my entire chest, I grab him by the throat, claws breaking skin, then throw him over the edge of the cliff.

Clothing clutched in my jaw, I run across fields, through woods and along the causeway until I’m standing at the entrance to the farm. Then I shift and dress myself, calling Caspian’s name as I approach the barn.

Thunder booms, and moments later, the sky brightens with a crack of lightning. My body tenses, the urge to shift again overwhelming as everything in me screams to find him and make sure he’s okay.

Protect!

I find the barn door securely closed, but all the wires on the fencing to the paddocks have been cut – as I knew they had been. It’s what the bald man had done while Caspian and I had been at the bakery. He’d come out here, trashed the food stores and let the sheep out, ushering them to all corners of the farm.

I open the barn door and step inside. The sheep are safe in their stable, munching on hay, which means Caspian must have rounded them up when he got back. I curse myself for being out hunting and not here helping him. I cannot imagine what he must have felt when he came home to find his farm in this condition.

In the smaller stable next to theirs, I hear a sorrowful bleat. My nose twitches as I peer over the door to find the little gold coloured goat standing on an elevated plank of wood. She steps back when she sees me, jumping to the ground and running to hide. She’s afraid of me, unlike her sister, who I note, looking around the small space, is missing.

My stomach twists, the puzzle pieces connecting.

I exit the barn, stepping into a heavy downpour. My eyes glow, searching the darkness for Caspian. Trudging towards the main house, I knock on the door, though I already know he’s not inside. I try the handle and it’s unlocked, but when I open it and step inside, the air is still, pressing in the way it does when no one has been home all day.

“Where are you, sweet human?” I ask, wandering to the back of the house, where the kitchen door and window are both shut. I plan to check the lighthouse and then the beach but as I’m passing the barn again, I hear something. Straining my ears, I pause and listen. Rain hits the ground and the barn roof but it’s there, under it all. A faint cry in the distance.

I follow it to the edge of the woods that runs the length of the property. It’s too dark for my human eyes and too thick to traverse without a light to guide me. Stripping off my shoes and clothing again, I throw them onto a heap at the foot of a tree, then stretch out my limbs, bathing in the sensation of muscles twisting, growing and stretching. My tail extends behind me, my fingers elongate and claws emerge at the ends, but it’s the change to my eyes and ears that I’m relying on now.

My eyes glow, lighting the way around tree trunks and over fallen branches and with enhanced hearing, despite the rain and the whistling wind, I can clearly make out Caspian’s voice.

“Applesauce,” he calls, his voice breaking on the goat’s name. “Where are you?” His fear is potent, and it carries on the air, making it easier for me to track him. I rush through the brush, over the uneven ground. Water pools in places and my clawed feet hit it with a splash, mud squishing between my toes. The storm is not letting up, but it doesn’t deter me and I push on until I spot Caspian in the distance. He has a small, ineffective torch in his hand and he’s shining it around him, his movements frantic. From somewhere up ahead, the goat bleats and Caspian’s head snaps up, and he starts running.

“Shit,” I mumble, following at a distance. I need him to find the goat and get the hell out of these woods. My eyes are trained on my human, his scent mixing with that of the goat, so I know they’re close. But it’s at that moment something else moves closer too. I feel the shift in the air like a physical touch.

My hackles rise, my fins standing tall as I spin around and peer into the thick, dark woodland. That’s when I see it, my eyes glowing, narrowing in on the silhouette of a human with fierce red eyes.

I growl, flashing my fangs.