House of Wolves

Uriel held his wrinkled shirt and sighed. It was thrown over his shoulder as he returned to buckling his belt. “Take her home, Richard,” he commanded. “It is over. I have done what you could not.”
“You bas—” Richard began.
My fingers dug into his elbow. “Stop.”
“Choose your words wisely, Richard, for you do not want to test me.” Uriel looked over his shoulder. Richard kept his silence, dropping his eyes, though his claws were curled against his palms. “As I thought.” He finished dressing, walking down the length of the car. “And be careful, Richard. I must warn you, I am very territorial.” The stand of trees welcomed him as he stepped off the dirt path, leaving us there.

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