I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

Radio Waves

I took heaving breaths and hacked out the feeling of sulfur that coated my lungs. My nose burned and the dry feeling in my lungs stung with a pain I had never felt before when facing a demon. Ash coated my tongue.

I gagged on a gasp at the feeling of hands sliding under my arms and dragging me to my feet. "Come on- up, there you go. Doing good, baby, you're OK," Dean mumbled in my ear as he dragged me away from the singed corpse. I clung to him like a wet rag clings to skin.

"I'm fine, I can- I'm fine," I panted through ragged breaths as I finally pulled myself to my feet. I still pressed my weight into his side and he welcomed the feeling with warm arms wrapped around me. The rasping feeling in my chest slowly settled. I stood straighter and leaned against him less, although he refused to relinquish his hold. I didn't complain.

"I'm OK. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Dean's arm slid to my waist and his gaze dropped to the corpse a few feet away from us. Blood barely pooled under the now aged sack of flesh. A ring of burnt grass and ash lay under it. "That was a ballsy move, jumping on him like that."

"He hurt Sam."

"Yeah..." I watched as his eyes flicked up to where Sam stood on the opposite side of the clearing. The brothers stared steadily at each other, an unspoken argument between them. What happened to using the demon blade? We agreed no psychic magic.

I stayed transfixed on the corpse while Samhain's words rang in my head like noisy church bells clashing together. Azazel's project. It wasn't... entirely lost on me that skinwalkers and the yellow-eyed demon had some deeper connection. I had known that since before Dean's death, with the tervuren having been a lackey of Azazel's – Booth and Jeremiah had both attested to seeing the bastard.

But asking my maker? My heart pounded in my chest. The sting of sulfur fled and rage filled my lungs in a single quick puff of air. My skin crawled with a burning itch beneath the surface. First, he sought to break the Seals, now this?

"I need a minute," I stated as I stared down at the corpse just a few feet from me. I disentangled myself from Dean's arms despite his protests. I dragged my fingers down the length of his arm. My hand closed around his wrist and I brought it to my lips, pressing a quick kiss to the exposed skin there. "I'll meet you back at the hotel."

His protests fell on deaf ears as I dropped onto four paws. I loped away from the brothers with my ears pressed back and paws smacking roughly against the scorched earth. My mind wasn't on the usual care and poise I had in this form. My hackles rose as I dipped into the trees that lined the cemetery and beyond.

I kept my nose to the ground and my eyes forward. My focus was narrowed on my swirling thoughts as I trotted through the woods, uncaring as to where my paws took me. I felt like my life was a puzzle and I had all the pieces, but I had no idea what the final image looked like. How was it all supposed to go together?

'As far as I could tell, it had some sort of investment in the strength of our pack,' Jeremiah had said so many months ago. That, of course, fit with the current narrative. Azazel wanted to determine the best of his child experiments, and he used the tervuren and the witch, Claire, to achieve his goals. Even Claire herself had confirmed that with her odd teleportation magic. The tervuren found children like Sam, and Claire used her abilities to move them on the whim of Azazel...

But how did that fit in with Mai-coh? My padding steps came to a halt as I stared down at the messy earth beneath my feet. Claire and the white wolf worked together, as evidenced by my first meeting with her. Was she just relying on some new powerful figure to guide her after the death of Azazel, or did it run deeper than that? And Mai-coh's fascination with the Sixty-Six Seals-