Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
We nearly make it to the clearing when the wolves try their luck again.
One goes for Khalil again, and I’m not quick enough to stop the large, gray wolf from tackling him. Meera tumbles out of his hold and the pups yip and whine, but I don’t look to see if the she-wolf stirs. My focus is trained on the snapping teeth and foaming mouth of the wolf currently trying to rip out Khalil’s throat. His own teeth are gritted from the effort of holding the wolf back. My confidence wavers as I redirect my aim to the struggling forms ten feet away.
What if I hit Khalil?
Or worse. What if I hit Khalil and it leaves an opening for the wolf to finish the job? All it would take is the smallest opening, and Khalil would be lost to me. Lost to us all.
Sweat forms on my brow, and my arm quivers from the strain of keeping the arrow drawn, but still I don’t fire.
“One of you better take the fucking shot,” Thorin warns quietly. “Now.” He’s a better shot than all of us, but his hands are full with Meera’s pups, who are doing their best to wriggle free and go to their mother.
It’s only then I realize that Zeke hasn’t fired either, but I don’t dare look away from the battle to see that pinch in his brow that tells me he’s worried about the same thing.
A moment later, Khalil roars in pain. Blood blooms through his shirt near his shoulder where the wolf’s claws shredded his skin to gain purchase.
My uncertainty fades as if it had never been, and Zeke and I fire at the same time, sending two arrows into the wolf’s side. It falls to the side with a yelp and Khalil shoves it off him with a groan before clutching his shoulder. Zeke steps forward to help him to his feet.
Nearby, a wolf howls and several more—too many to count—follow in a bone-chilling chorus.
“This isn’t over,” Thorin warns. His hands are free now to yank the rifle off his shoulder and quickly chamber a round. “The first two were tests of our strength. Get ready.”
I hear him flick the safety off his hunting rifle while my frantic gaze follows the sounds of the pups’ cries to a tree with a small burrow halfway up the trunk. Rom and Remy are huddled inside, safely out of reach. Meera is lying at the base of the tree, her shallow breaths coming too far apart to settle the knot in my gut.
We’re not far from the cabin. If it were winter, we would probably even see smoke curling from the chimney above the trees. We could make a run for it, but that would mean leaving Meera and her pups behind to be slaughtered.
Obviously, that’s not an option.
“Are you okay to shoot?” Thorin asks and I tear my gaze away from Meera and the pups to see him inspecting Khalil’s shoulder while Zeke keeps an eye out for more wolves.
“I’m fine.” Khalil’s jaw is clenched as he yanks the shotgun off his shoulder.
All around us I see the occasional flash of fur and hear paws hitting the ground, leaves rustling, and low growls as the remaining wolves surround us. The guys try to form a circle around me, but I push through Zeke and Khalil and load an arrow just in time for the wolves to finally show themselves. They push through the cover of the denser foliage to the small clearing where the four of us chose to stand our ground.
I realize with the force of a boulder falling into the pit of my stomach that they’re not like Meera. They don’t have the intelligent look I could swear I’ve glimpsed in her eyes. They look truly wild and, a few of them, alarmingly rabid.
My gaze flicks to the open wound on Khalil’s shoulder. He wasn’t bitten thankfully, but if even a drop of saliva had gotten into the wound during their struggle…
I take in a resolving breath to keep from spilling my guts and giving the wolves the weak link they are currently searching for.
“I count seven,” I whisper.
“Eight,” Thorin corrects.
“Nine,” Zeke says hoarsely.
We don’t stand a fucking chance. There are too many.
“Keep eye contact,” Thorin warns, “and whatever you do, do not fucking run.”
Thankfully, I’ve been living with predators for months now, so I already knew running would only trigger the wolves’ instinct to chase.
“Anyone got a plan?” Zeke asks.
“Yeah,” Khalil bites back sarcastically. “Don’t miss.”
A moment later, my ears are ringing from the thunderous crack that suddenly rends the air from too close behind me. The burnt and acrid scent of smokeless gunpowder follows, mixing with the petrichor of last night’s rain.
The wolves are attacking.
Thorin fires another shot just as Zeke takes the offensive and looses another green arrow at a black wolf that darts by. There’s no time to wonder if the arrow hits its target because a wolf with tawny fur like Meera’s bursts over a fallen log and leaps for Zeke, whose focus is on the growth where the black wolf disappeared.