She leapt over a ditch, wincing as she caught her forepaws on the hard, stony soil. The pain lanced up her forelegs, but still she continued on. She couldn’t afford to stop for even a second.
One glance over her shoulder told her what she already knew. They were still in hot pursuit and growing closer with every ragged breath she took.
Still, she pressed forward, relieved that the ditch at least seemed to slow them down by a few seconds. And every second counted right now. To them, it was the difference between getting or losing information for their pack alpha—whoever he was—but for her it was the difference between life and death.
She’d heard plenty of tales of messengers going missing or getting killed due to pack rivalries, but never had she found herself on the bad end of one of those stories. She wasn’t about to be the next tale told around the full moon bonfire next month.
And so, though her lungs were burning and her feet were bleeding with the effort of how fast she was running, she ignored the seizing soreness in her limbs and rushed headlong into the forest that bordered Nightstar.
This was the longest part of the journey. The forest grew thick and wild for a good two miles before finally thinning out closer to the town, but luckily for her, she knew every tree and bush after playing hide and seek and catch the squirrel as a pup in those very same woods.
That was the only thing that gave her hope she might actually manage to get away.
And even if she didn’t, she was so close to being within range of her pack that she was certain if she found enough breath to howl for help, they would come running. She only hoped they’d have enough time to reach her if it came to that.
The pounding paws and panting breath behind her told her that maybe, just maybe, she might have held them off for long enough. The sounds were growing quieter, further and further away.
Managing to make it past the halfway point through the forest, she was almost certain she would make it to the town. Swiveling her ears back behind her, she tried to inhale enough to draw in the scents around her.
Maybe there was another member of the pack close by. One exhausted she-wolf against two man-wolves wouldn’t stand a chance, but if she even had one of her packmates at her side, she might manage to survive this.
She couldn’t smell anyone. Nor could she smell the vile scents of the two wolves chasing her. The wind was blowing from behind, and she was almost certain that she should have been able to, unless…
Hope flared inside her. Maybe she had managed to shake them, after all.
Running on just a little further, almost within the sight of the town, Layla skidded to a halt to catch her breath. If she couldn’t smell them, she was almost certain they had to have fallen behind.
Dropping her bag so that she could open her mouth to draw in lungful after lungful of air, she allowed the scents of her familiar home to waft over her tongue.
Just knowing how close to home she was gave her a small boost of energy to remain on her paws.
She was just about to pick up her pack again when she realized she wasn’t alone.
The growling laughter seemed to surround her, and it was with great horror that Layla realized the two wolves were coming at her from both sides. How they had managed it, she didn’t know, but they had somehow maneuvered around her, coming at her almost entirely upwind, leaving her unable to smell them.
Thinking only of the letter in her pack, she grabbed the strap and darted back the way she came, hoping she might be able to outrun them just long enough to turn back and head for home once more.
Yet, it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t to be. No sooner had she grabbed the bag and taken off than she felt a clawed paw slice her rear legs out from under her.
Twisting in midair, she just managed to stop her chest from crashing into the ground as she was flung toward it.
Still, she hit it hard, the wind knocked right out of her lungs, leaving her unable to howl for help.
When the first wolf landed on top of her, she knew that she was done for.
He growled low in her ear, a menacing, deadly sound that told her she was going to die. His jaws snapped close to her ear, and she knew it was a warning not to try anything again.
There was very little she could have tried to do. He was three times her size, and she was exhausted. All she had left to do was to lie still and hope that he would just take the bag and go.
She still didn’t want to give up the correspondence, but it was all she could give to save her own hide. And she was certain that unlike Karl, Jack wouldn’t blame her for it.
And so, she closed her eyes, praying that the bag with its letter hidden inside would be enough to save her and waiting for fangs to meet in her throat. One way or another, it would all be over soon.
That’s when the howling came. It was a warning of its own, and though Layla wasn’t entirely sure of the voice, it sent a thrill through her the likes of which she had never felt before.
She wasn’t as alone as she had believed.
As the wolf leapt from the underbrush, Layla realized she would have recognized those deep blue eyes anywhere.