The rat tore free with a guttural shriek, a blur of fur and teeth, and it lunged straight for my throat.

I barely had time to flinch before Malcolm slammed into me, knocking me flat against the dock.

The impact rattled through my bones, but his weight shielded me, his arm braced across my chest as claws raked the space where I’d been standing.

The rat hissed, circling back, its eyes glowing like embers. Malcolm pushed himself up, one arm bleeding, the other still holding me tight against him. His jaw was stone, his breath ragged.

“Malcolm, you’re hurt—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut me off, voice rough, every word a...