Page 6 of Wolves in Love

“I’m not that badly off,” Anders protested.

“I’m talking here.” Youngless touched his forehead. “In your mind. Or maybe here?” He pointed to Ander’s chest. “I see how you look at our heir’s wife.”

Anders bristled then sighed, relaxing his suddenly tensed shoulders. “She made her choice.”

He hadn’t anything to offer her but a short life. If he could, he would give her everything he had. Again, that was nothing, for now at least.

Youngless was still eyeing him.

“I’m fine. Really. Your alpha wishes to talk to you.”

“We can’t linger here,” Youngless said as he fell into step beside Anders. “They will find us and attack again. We kill some of theirs, but they have two packs compared to our one. We will lose more men, and soon, they will kill us all.”

“You regret marching?”

“Now is past the time for regrets. As Misti did, we made our choice. Now we must live with the consequences, however bleak they are.”

And they were very bleak. Anders had now walked through most of the battlefield, and the numbers of the Wild Shades were definitely dwindling. Another few battles, and they would be all slaughtered.

“Never thought they would do it.” Anders shook his head.

“Team up to kill us? A few stopped fighting us and slew each other, but not enough. Hate can be as binding as love.”

The connection he had felt with Misti from the very beginning… it had been lust at first. Then it turned into love. It remained love on his end, but had Misti ever loved him? He knew she hated him now.

The breeze shifted, and the scent of burning flesh came to him. Anders gagged. Sometimes having enhanced senses was not a blessing but a curse.

As they walked, the breeze shifted again. This time, Anders stilled. He smelled blood and sweat. And he heard wild cheers of a marching brigade heading for war.

Werewolves, some in human form, others wolves, descended onto the battlefield.

So much for talking strategy.

Youngless was already in wolf form, howling out a warning to the others. He barreled forward, engaging the enemy.

Anders ran in the other direction. All he could think of was Misti. He had to reach her. He had to protect her. Her wounds weren’t life-threatening, but she would not be able to defend herself.

As he reached her side, he was in wolf form. He could run so much faster in that form. She was sleeping, peacefully, but two werewolves were circling her, moving in.

Blinded by rage, he lashed out at them. Their howls turned into whimpers, and he quickly killed the first then the second. The death shrill of the second one was piercing, and Misti jerked awake, crying out in pain.

He rushed over to her and nuzzled her. Stay here, he tried to howl at her.

Her gaze shifted to over his shoulder, and he turned around in time to see a claw streaking toward his face. Anders backed up, so the paw missed him and charged forward, knocking the werewolf down. He pinned the wolf down and tore out his throat.

By this point, Misti had transformed into her wolf form. She seemed a little more comfortable in her wolf fur than her human skin.

I’ll stay by you, she howled.

You better.

But this changes nothing between us.

He rushed her, leaped over her entire body, claw out, and slashed at the werewolf who had tried to sneak up behind her. With a whelp, the werewolf retreated.

Not bothering to give chase, Anders paced around Misti. When no wolves—or humans—approached, Misti started back into the battlefield, leaving Anders no choice but to follow.

The scene before them was gruesome, brutal, total destruction. Wolves and humans were fighting with such brutality. A werewolf bit off a human’s arm. A human fired at three wolves and killed them all. One human rode on a werewolf’s back, bashing a baseball bat onto the head or paw or stomach of anyone who neared them.

---