Page 123 of Unwilling Wolf

“I’ll draw them away.”

“I don’t think we should split up! We should wait for the Pack!”

“If the Pack isn’t here by now, they’re hurt, Eliza.” His eyes flashed white as he gripped her shoulder and dragged her closer to his face. “It’s just us. Shoot at anything that comes through those doors.”

“But—”

“Eliza, I’m asking you to listen to me one time.” He shoved a loaded pistol into her hand and twitched his head toward the flames that were still small enough to put out. “Take care of that.”

“Garret,” she choked out.

“What?”

“I…I love you.”

His nostrils flared, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And with that, he buckled in on himself and the wolf exploded from him. One glance back with those blue eyes she’d learned to recognize anywhere, and he leaped through the broken window and disappeared into the dark night.

Alone. She was all alone now.

She scrambled to the still-small flames near the broken bottle, took the skirts of her dress and tamped them out.

It took too long. The wolves were howling outside the door, and something was scratching at the back of the house.

Tears burning her eyes, she cocked the pistol and dragged the bag to the window, sat on the bench right beside it, and quickly peeked out.

A bullet hit the broken window glass and cut her face. She threw her arm over her face and winced at the pain.

Okay, so they had a shooter waiting by this window. It was too light! She crawled to the table and lifted up onto her knees, blew out the flame of the lantern, and ducked back down as bullets sprayed through the broken window.

She crawled on her hands and knees, but her hands found broken glass, and she gasped at the pain. Angry tears blurring her vision, she made her way into Garret’s bedroom, latched his door closed, and set her station up near his window. She had four loaded pistols and two rifles.

Everything would be okay. Everything would be all right.

She lifted up and held her shaking breath as she peeked out the window. It was mostly dark outside, but she could see a little thanks to the rays of sunset that still clung to the Lazy S.

There was one shooter on the edge of the trees, eyes on that broken front window. He was in human form, and wore a light-colored linen shirt, so she could see him. He held a rifle up, waiting.

She had aired out this room before, and knew this window opened smoothly. She’d greased it herself. Glass broke in the den, perhaps another window, but she couldn’t worry over that now. The howling was filling the night, and Garret was out there—just him against the Jennings Pack.

She lifted up and quickly unlatched the window, shoved it open and took aim, and she pulled that trigger with confidence.

The man in the light linen shirt went down like a sack of potatoes. There was so much movement outside, but it seemed to be wolves scattering.

A streak of white flashed. Lenny?

Hope filled her!

Something massive came flying through the window, shattering the glass, and in horror, Eliza realized it was a werewolf. He was dark in color, with bright-green eyes and his lips pulled back from his teeth. He scrabbled toward her, his claws failing to find purchase on the smooth wooden floors.

She pulled the trigger on another pistol and cocked it, then pulled the trigger again as she moved to the door. That wolf was down, but as soon as she opened the door, there was another in the den. He charged, and she couldn’t get back into Garret’s room fast enough. She lurched out of his way, and he hit the door hard.

Boom! Boom!

The yelp of the wolf said she’d hit him, but she didn’t have time to check if he was down for good. She needed to get to the root cellar. They were finding ways in!

She skidded on her knees to the root cellar, and dropped a pistol to yank on the rope handle.

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