Welcome to the sequel to 'The Werewolf of London', brought to you by the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event. There will be blood and violence and sex and fluffy wolf cuddles. This whole thing has spiraled way out of my control and I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Many, many thanks to my artist and co-conspirator distant-rose, and my ever-patient beta idoltina for holding my hand throughout this whole nerve-wracking process.

A drop of toothpaste dripped onto her black tank top before she could react. Emma sighed in annoyance, her shoulders slouching, then went back to vigorously brushing her teeth. It was bad enough she was late getting up and ready for the day, now she'd have to change, too.

"Morning, darling," Killian said, popping his head into the bathroom and kissing her on the cheek.

She leaned in to it, her hackles lowering at the feel and scent of him surrounding her. "Morning," she mumbled around both toothpaste and brush, then leaned over the sink to spit. "Running late."

"Coffee's in a thermos, and there's a fresh box of breakfast bars for you."

She smiled, rinsing and patting her face dry with a towel. He knew her so well. "Good provider," she said teasingly, patting his cheek as she went back to their bedroom to change.

Killian hummed with appreciation as she stripped out of her tank and rummaged in the dresser for something else to wear. "Down boy," Emma warned.

"You know how I get around the full moon, sweet."

"Yeah, well, we don't have time this morning. We'll try for a quickie before the moon rises tonight, you know how much I hate fucking in wolf form."

Killian sighed in that overly dramatic way of his that made her both roll her eyes and smile. She found another black camisole that would work under the top she'd been planning to wear and threw it on. "How quickly the honeymoon phase ends," he mused, and she heard him fiddling with his prosthetic. "Already we have to schedule when we have sex."

Emma pulled on the nicer top and paused to kiss his cheek as she moved to leave. "I think that part came into play when you stopped living in that hotel and moved into my bed."

"Move in with me," she said softly, almost inaudible from where she lay her head on his chest.

He didn't dare breathe, for fear of jostling her and making her realize what she said, making her stammer and take it back or make it seem like she'd meant to say something else and it slipped out. But the longer he didn't reply, the more prominent the smell of fear, anxiety, and dread became. "Say that again," he said, quiet and pleading.

She shifted, resting her chin on her hand and looking at him with wide, guileless green eyes. He'd been in the States again for only two months, working hard to open this new branch of their business and living out of a hotel - well, spending some of his time in the hotel. Emma was fairly insistent on rekindling what they'd started in January, and who was he to complain about the warmth of a woman he cared for and the familiar comforts of her apartment? After their memorable reunion in the woods, he didn't mind the extra chances to catch up on lost time.

She'd welcomed him into her home, into her bed, with only three days and a lot of sex to bind them.

"Move in with me," Emma said, more clearly this time, her eyes searching his and the scent of nerves almost overpowering him.

Instead of answering, he sat up, bringing her with him. He cupped her face in his hand, his thumb gliding along the full pout of her lower lip, his nose brushing hers as he considered her request. Every time he left her, even if it was only to go to work, he felt this aching need to return to her after just an hour. The chance to see her regularly, with no lonely, sterile hotel waiting for him on the nights she had to be out for work, gripped him tight and he pressed their lips together and made her squeak in surprise.

"Aye, love. I'll move in with you."

He grabbed her wrist before she could go and pulled her flush against him, his mouth pressed against hers in a way that made her knees go weak. Her wolf senses were flushed with the taste and the smell of him, her baser instincts clawing at her to fuck him until neither of them could see straight, but humanity - and the fact that she liked having a roof over her head - prevailed. She inhaled deeply after they parted, unable to resist the urge to take in his aroused scent. "What was I saying?" she asked softly.

"Something about me being in your bed, which is tragically empty of either of us right now." She was glad to hear that he sounded as wrecked as she felt.

"We have jobs to go to," she said, though it really did sound like a weak excuse when the pull of the moon and her desire for him felt so strong.

"Mmm."

Killian kissed her nose and she nuzzled him in return. He was so fucked later, she promised herself. "Later," she said. "Just… raincheck on this and come back to it later."

"Alright, love," he said, letting her go.

She heard him chuckle as she walked away on slightly wobbly legs. She shrugged into her leather jacket and grabbed both the thermos of coffee and a breakfast bar before picking up her purse. "Love you," she called over her shoulder.

"Love you too, darling, have a good day."

Luck was not on their side.

A stream of steamy texts over the course of the day left Emma in a nearly perpetual state of arousal and left Ruby complaining about the scent permeating the entire office. She was only lucky that none of the other werewolves in their office were in that day - everyone was either out on a case or had strategically taken the day off with the full moon coming that night; Emma had always admired those who were able to take that time, but she always worried that it would only take one savvy HR person to realize there was a pattern and out the whole community of wolves living under the noses of the humans. Hell, a whole magical community, not just the wolves; where one species fell, the others weren't far behind, or so the logic went.

So she stuck it out and suffered, the itch under her skin of the change to come later that night growing stronger as the day wore on, and the heat between her legs flaring up with every new text from Killian. And it would have been fine, everything would have gone as planned, except for the fact that at four o'clock on the nose Emma got a tip from one of her informants about a skip she'd been hunting for weeks. Weeks. The apex predator in her, both the human side and the wolf side, seethed at being evaded for so long and she jumped at the chance to go hunting and relieve some of the itching under her skin.

As she got into her Bug, she checked the time, cross-referencing when the sun would set and the moon would rise. If she played her cards right, and she was both an excellent bounty hunter and poker player, she'd have this guy locked up and delivered to the precinct in enough time.

If she didn't? Well, this guy would get dragged off by a canine more than half his height. Or she'd get a good whiff of his scent and really be able to track him down later.

With how dodgy this perp had been, she kind of hoped she wouldn't find him before moonrise.

She sent a quick apology/explanation text to Killian to let him know she might not make it in time; she hated to disappoint him and put off their plans until morning, but she knew he'd understand eventually. He might put up a front about it at first but they'd get there in the end. She stuck her phone in her jacket pocket then shifted the Bug into gear, heading out towards the last place her perp had been seen.

But it was almost stupidly easy to nab the guy, which was kind of a disappointment after how long he'd evaded her every trap. He'd been sitting right where her informant had said he was, still reading the paper with his coffee, and it took three lines before she got the cuffs on him.

"Hey, I'd remember seeing a handsome guy like you. You new in town?"

"Piss off, sister, I'm not interested."

"Weird, because your arrest record says I'm just your type."

Comically easy. It's like she'd scripted the perfect takedown: he looked up in shock, she already had the cuffs out, and then he was down on the table with his arms behind his back before he could react.

A little superhuman speed never hurt anyone. Well, never hurt any of the good guys, anyway.

Emma was even surprised she didn't have to threaten to gag the guy as she dragged him to the nearest precinct office; he was sullen and quiet the whole way. Usually, perps mouthed off the whole time, driving her crazy. The hand-off went smoothly, she got her cuffs back without having to beg for them, and even the paperwork took less time than she imagined.

The sun was setting by the time she got back to the apartment.

"Killian!" Emma called, closing the door behind her and shrugging out of her jacket. She kicked her boots off and slung the jacket over the back of a chair. "Hey, sorry I didn't have a chance to call before getting home, we've got just enough time to-"

She paused in removing her shirt, nostrils flaring. She realized his scent in the apartment was old; he hadn't been back since that morning. Frowning, she fished around for her phone in her jacket pocket. He was always home before she was, perk of being his own boss. He could work from home whenever, but he always liked to put in at least the majority of his day at the office; he'd come home in the afternoon and switch between taking care of dinner and continuing to work on accounts in the spare room they'd converted into his office, and Emma's days of coming home daily with takeout or feasting on leftover takeout were long behind her.

So him not being here was more of a concern than not; she unlocked her phone and looked at her messages: nothing. Not even a response from when she'd told him of her perp chase.

Emma worried her lip between her teeth. This wasn't like him at all. Killian was nothing if not punctual with responses to any kind of communication - he'd sent out thank you notes after he'd been included in the pack's summer birthday celebration, for God's sake. (Even Emma's mother, who had been a pinnacle of decorum and manners, had given up on making her send thank you notes after she'd turned like, eight, and threw a fit about it every time.) She didn't want to be a clingy, nagging girlfriend, calling and checking up on him, but this was really unusual for him. But…

She didn't have the best track record for coming home to an empty house. The last time it had happened it was after Granny Lucas said she was recovered enough from losing her litter to go home; Neal was already gone, Emma knew that, the pain of a broken mate-bond usurping even the pain of losing a litter, but it still hurt to return to an empty apartment and have it cemented that she'd been abandoned in her time of need. And the time before that, she'd been sixteen and her parents house showed clear signs of a fight; she'd followed the trail to the challenge grounds, only to arrive just before Regina murdered Snow for control of the North End pack.

"Mom!"

The moonlight on the snow gave her a clear view of the challenge grounds - Dad sprawled on the ground and a dark spot spreading under him, Regina bearing down on Mom, more light glinting off the ceremonial knives hidden away for such occasions.

Hearing her voice, Mom pushed Regina back with a shout. "Emma, leave!"

Her feet slipped - the stones were icy this time of year, but she had to get to Dad. He was hurt, she had to stop the bleeding until help arrived. "No, I'm not going anywhere!"

Mom lashed out, almost cutting Regina's face. She'd never heard this tone from her mother before, not even after that time she'd broken the vase in the front hall. "Go home now!"

But Regina lunged, just as Emma's foot slipped. She cried out as she went crashing into the snow, her mother's surprised shout suddenly cut off and the sound of a fight fading into the crisp winter's night.

Emma swallowed back bile; they hadn't been together long, but what they had was intense and felt more real to her than anything she'd ever had before, so she hoped she wasn't wrong about Killian and that he hadn't left. She told herself something must have come up at work, that he must have gotten sidetracked the same way she got caught up in a case, but to not even have an acknowledgement of her text felt wrong somehow. She glanced out the window, trying to run through the list of possible reasons why he hadn't responded, hating that she felt like she needed to obsessively think about this, but the deep reds and oranges the setting sun was casting on the buildings outside only made her think of blood.

While she hated to even consider it, the thought of blood reminded her that there'd been some foul rumors and doings of late. Nothing had been happening within the Dorchester pack's territory, or even where Killian worked up in South Boston territory, but the downtown and central packs, including the North End pack, had been involved in more scuffles than anyone in the outside territories were comfortable with. And the number of regular humans involved were far higher than anyone would like. It was practically begging for anyone outside of the magical community to take notice, especially as things started to spread. Even Uncle James had taken notice, and he hardly ever bothered with pack politics outside of Dorchester.

The moon turning full always put everyone's blood up, so if there was some kind of feud starting…

She hit 'call' before she could think it through any further. It rang three times before it stopped and she heard him swear and fumble with the device before answering; even that much made the anxious knot in her chest ease. "Swan?"

"Hey. Hi. Sorry, I-" Emma paused, overwhelmed just by how much hearing his voice affected her and eased the near-panic she'd fretted herself into. "I-hi."

"Bloody hell," Killian said. "Love, I am sorry, this afternoon got away from me entirely. Liam called with a merger crisis and I've been on the phone with three different countries for hours and I hardly remember how to speak proper English-Emma? Are you alright?"

She sniffled, swiping at her eyes and calling herself a dozen kinds of idiot. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, I just… I got worried."

He exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry, love. Did you-yes, I see you did message me. Bloody-hell, it's sundown. Moonrise is when?"

"About half an hour."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Emma said. "Better get out of there, unless you want to really freak out your employees."

Killian chuckled and she pressed the phone harder against her ear, letting the sound warm her insides and keep her calm. "Well, I think I'm the last one here, but you've a point. Though I think I'll have to leave everything here…"

"I'll drive you to work tomorrow," Emma promised.

"Alright, thank you, love. I'm sorry we weren't able to make good on our plans."

"It's okay," she said. "I was worried I wouldn't make it either. And I'm just glad you're okay. We'll make up for it in the morning."

"It's a promise. I'll meet you at our spot, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Their spot was a pond in one of the conservation areas nearby; being city wolves, it was generally agreed upon that the state parks, reservations, and conservatories were neutral ground for all the packs to use for hunting and roaming. People took enough pictures of foxes and coyotes spotted in urban areas, the last thing anyone needed was to Snapchat any larger-than-average wolves scavenging near Fenway Park.

Emma let herself out of the apartment and made her way to her usual spot for the change to take place. It looked like it was going to be a clear, crisp night - while the first summer moon was her favorite, she loved the October moons too. Not only because of her personal birthday, but something always felt extra special about an October full moon. Maybe it was the approach of Halloween and the ease the American magical community felt about the public's embrace of the occult, or maybe it was how months of running warm were starting to fade into crisp nights made for sprinting.

Or maybe it was just the satisfying way leaves crunched under her paws.

It was probably the leaves.

She took the change in stride, energy filling her veins as she shifted from woman to wolf, shaking her pale fur out and inhaling deeply. Her senses as a human were far from dull, but everything was so enhanced in her wolf form. And things that would normally bother her - the usual smells and stains of city-living - didn't affect her wolf form nearly as much. The canine part of her seemed to take over, noting with interest the changes of each scent that had previously been logged in her brain, then her growling belly took precedent.

Time for hunting.

She didn't rush herself, knowing it would be some time before Killian could meet with her, and took the opportunity to let her track meander and weave, following her nose towards something that soon become her dinner. She crossed paths with packmates and wolves from rival packs alike, keeping to the shadows as much as she could, alternating between a trot and a run, her muscles singing at the chance to stretch and run. She could hear others in the distance, the yips and howls of packmates reunited.

Ruby and Dorothy found her at one point, tackling her to the ground and scaring off the rabbit Emma had been tracking for the last mile. She rolled over under their weight and nipped at Ruby's ear in annoyance - she was hungry, dammit!

Dorothy got off first, sitting primly next to them. :Find mate?: she asked, the image of Killian coming across.

:Slow. Here soon,: Emma replied.

She'd always found the shared mind-speech to be strange - they could communicate over very short distances - about the same range as humans - but simple ideas seemed to transfer easier. The elders didn't really question it, but as technology and magic merged, more of their kind were able to study one another; there were theories about just how much of their wolf and human senses ebbed and flowed during the moon cycle. The current thought was that at the peak, the full moon, the wolf took the lion's share of the brain and so while Emma could understand complex thoughts and ideas, her wolf self needed something more simple to understand. Emma wouldn't call Killian her mate, because the term carried too much weight and meaning, but there really wasn't a term for 'boyfriend' that their more primal senses would understand.

Ruby's ears pricked up at a few distant calls. :?:

Emma listened too, Dorothy's hackles and tail going up as she tensed. There were mixed calls, most of them from other packs than theirs, and it was hard to pick up on what exactly the commotion was about. :Hunt song,: Dorothy said finally, relaxing.

:Warning call,: Ruby argued.

There'd been a few warning calls, but with all the hunt songs it made sense to interpret that as the hunters warning off anyone who might be trying to steal their prey. :Silly pup,: Emma chided, biting her ear again and tugging on it this time. :Hunt song.:

Ruby whuffed, resting her head on her paws with a grumble. Dorothy licked her mate's forehead with a sympathetic whine. Another call had Emma's ears up again and she responded in kind, getting up so quickly that Ruby rolled off of her with a surprised yelp. Dorothy's snout crinkled, revealing her teeth, a silent wolf's laugh. :Hunt, seek mate. Pack together soon,: she said, with an image of herself and Ruby waiting for them.

Emma set off towards the pond, trying not to sprint outright, but it was hard to keep herself in check. Her worry from earlier had only increased her desire to see Killian, combined with how they'd teased each other all day and the way they'd left one another that morning - all on top of the fact that she just flat-out missed him when he wasn't around.

Just a few months into this relationship and it was already so much more than anything she'd ever had before. It was scary. It was exciting. It was...

She spotted him up ahead, the moonlight gilding his black fur silver, and broke into a run, leaping at him and causing them both to tumble tail over snout into the shallows of the pond.

Killian headbutted her affectionately and she nipped at his ear.

It was everything she ever could have wanted.

They climbed out of the pond, shaking off the mud and water from their fur. :Hungry,: Emma whined. She tried to explain how Ruby and Dorothy had denied her hunt before.

Killian nuzzled her, teasing her with the image of herself lolling about on the floor like some kind of lazy, overly-indulged dog who complained when her bowl was empty for more than thirty seconds. Emma actually bit him this time, right on the snout, her lips curled back in a snarl; his ears went down in apology. Without another 'word' between them, she set off; he was a few paces behind, letting her take point.

They lucked out, tracking down a couple of rabbits and making quick work of them. Her belly feeling better now that it was full and her own temper cooling down without that need fighting to be met, Emma didn't rebuff him when he sidled up next to her, pressing himself against her so they walked almost as if they were in some kind of strange six-legged race. She pretended to grumble when he nuzzled her, her tail draping over his, and let him lead her to a mossy patch they liked to relax on while digesting their dinner.

Killian flopped down on the ground with a sigh and Emma lay half on top of him, their heads close together. She heard his tail making a mess of the leaves littering the forest floor and knew he was content with this. :Missed you,: she sent. :Worried. Scared.:

:Here now. Missed you. Mate now?: he asked, whuffing in amusement when she growled and bit at the thick ruff of fur around his neck in annoyance.

It wasn't as if she didn't want to, even if he was layering his mind-speech with insinuations that since she missed him so much and worried so much that she should really make sure he was fine. The desire remained no matter the form she took, and she knew from their talks that her scent was even more powerful in this form and it had to be driving him crazy. But even if she liked mating in this form - which she seriously did not, there were some advantages to having a human form, thank you very much - she felt as full as if she'd just gorged herself on Thanksgiving dinner. And it was never a good idea to fuck after eating that much. Ever.

:Insolent pup. Sunrise,: she promised, her eyes closing as the sleepy effects of a full stomach took over. She drowsily remembered that Ruby and Dorothy were waiting to meet up later, then reasoned they'd just have to keep waiting.

She didn't know how long they'd been napping before a shot rang out.

They started to their feet, as clumsy and confused as a newborn pup, ears straining and tails erect with fear as they tried to figure out where the sound of gunfire came from. The wolf wanted to panic, wanted to run and attack anything that got in her way. Emma clung to whatever bit of humanity remained in this form, knowing that nothing good would come out of a werewolf attack - and though they wouldn't be able to identify it as werewolf, they'd notice that the claw and teeth marks would be much larger, much deeper than those of a common gray wolf. Stories would spread about some kind of rabid wolfdog or direwolf or whatever else humans concocted when scared and refusing to face what was right under their noses, and the entire werewolf community would have to hide until the panic settled and the event labeled as some kind of freak accident.

Until the victim turned.

Assuming he was left alive that is, (and Emma felt so much panic that it was a slim chance that anyone who startled her at this point would live to talk about it), he'd be the first human to be turned in their territory in nearly fifty years. It was doubtful if anyone remembered what to do in the event of an attack and the victim lived.

And if he died, well, Uncle James would sniff the truth out of her pretty damn quick. Assailants were handled swiftly and without mercy by pack leaders, family relations notwithstanding.

So as deeply as she wanted to, she had to hold on and keep her cool until they got to safety. Or until sunrise. Or both.

Really, both was the better option.

Another shot rang out and they zeroed in on the direction it came from. :Run!: Killian ordered, teeth bared, before darting off in the opposite direction. :Hunters!:

She took off after him, ears laid back to make sure they weren't being followed. She remembered the signals from earlier, the mixed sounds of hunt song and warning calls, and realized that Ruby had been right - it was a warning call, a warning about hunters. They were the apex predators, they rarely if ever needed to warn others about being hunted.

And who was crazy enough to hunt wolves after hearing how many of them there were?

Killian barked ahead of her. :Scatter!:

Another gunshot, this one from closer up ahead - did he see something? Were there actually multiple hunters out tonight? She thought of home, their apartment, wishing desperately they were there instead of running for their lives out here.

This was supposed to be a night of reconnection, reunion of the pack, the monthly reminder that while the shapeshifting part of their lives hurt and could be hellish, they were both human and wolf and could find joy in all parts of themselves. Not this nightmarish scenario of being hunted and skinned and stuffed like some prize.

She veered away, her feet flying under her, hoping she was heading towards home - she didn't have time to pause and get her bearings, she only had to hope she was running back towards the city and not towards the ocean. She couldn't even count on her nose at the moment, she was breathing too hard, and out here it all mixed together with the woods anyway.

She heard two more shots nearby, and then someone started a Howl - it wasn't a hunt song or a warning call.

It was a battle cry.

Someone was trying to scare the hunters off and Emma wanted no part in that. She just wanted to find Killian and get home. The howls quickly turned into barks and snarls, whoever was banding together to scare their hunters off had found someone to intimidate. She didn't hear the human's voice in response, but she also didn't hear anymore gunfire as the pack descended. She started to feel some relief, but didn't stop running, wanting to put more distance between them.

Emma called out for Killian and she got a response that he was heading towards her. The scent in the air changed little by little, becoming more city-like, and she hoped they could just make it back to the apartment without anything else happening.

She saw streetlights ahead and slowed to a stop, wanting to catch her breath before needing to resort to stealth to make it the rest of the way home. She whined, pacing in a circle. She was thirsty, she was nervous, she just wanted the safety of home and Killian and-

Her hackles rose as something crashed through the brush behind her, but Killian sprang out of the woods, breathing hard, and she relaxed. Whining again, she hurried over to him, nuzzling him and licking him wherever she could reach. :Safe now, den?:

A coppery metallic tang hit her nose as she licked down towards his shoulders - then the taste of it hit her tongue, and she realized it was blood. She froze, sniffing cautiously. He wheezed, hacking for a moment like he was trying to cough something up, then his legs buckled. :Hurts,: was all he managed before falling to the ground completely.

She smelled blood, yes, but there was sulfur too, and a different metallic scent - darker, heavier, one she associated with the handgun she kept for her job.

He'd been shot.

She didn't know what else to do - didn't know when sunrise was, how long he'd been bleeding or how serious it was. She didn't even know if the bullet was silver - hunters with magical knowledge were rare but they existed.

Panic rearing its ugly head again, she did the only thing she could think. She threw her head back and let out a mournful howl, praying someone was still nearby to hear and come help.