Page 332 of Steamy Ever After

A streak of red flashes in front of me, less than ten feet away. I jump but force myself to calm down. That animal is too small to be a wolf.

Fox, maybe?

I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled and scared.

The squeaking of snow sounds behind me, followed by a low huff.

I spin and come face-to-face with a pack of timber wolves. The lead animal points its nose to the sky and lets loose a long, piercing howl.

The skin-crawling noise splits the night air. The wolf paws the ground, snorts, and faces me down. It raises thin lips and gives a throaty growl while the other wolves hunker down and snarl.

WOLVES

The snarl of the pack alpha freezes me in my tracks. The wolf stands waist—no—chest high. Massive. When did wolves get so big?

And their teeth?

Sharp and menacing, I take a step back.

The moist air from its exhaled breath coalesces into a fog, which coils around its muzzle. Its upper lip pulls back into a snarl.

It looks hungry.

Very hungry.

“Don't move.” A deep voice calls out somewhere behind and to the right of me.

The alpha wolf shakes its massive head. Its head cocks to the side, ears rotating to locate the source of that voice. It sniffs the air but doesn’t seem to be able to lock onto a scent.

It growls again, lifting the hairs on my nape. I’m moments from doing exactly the opposite of what that voice commands.

Don’t move? Is he crazy?

All that wolf has to do is launch at me and I’m toast. Its paws will land on my shoulders. Its weight will push me down. Those snarling teeth will snap and clamp around my throat.

The others in the pack support their alpha, forming a loose semicircle behind it. Their strategy’s clear and terrifying. Each animal can attack without getting in the others' way.

Talk about coordinating a kill.

“Don’t make any sudden moves.” The man behind me is so damn calm. "Run, and you're dead.”

No shit, Sherlock.

A wolf toward the back of the pack pricks up its ears, rotating them toward the man's voice. It scents the air, nostrils flaring. The wolf looks to its leader, head swiveling with indecision.

My hands tremble and my breath catches. An hour ago, my biggest concern was hitting a moose. Now, I face a pack of wolves.

"What do I do?" My voice cracks.

“Take a slow step back."

Technically, that’s moving. Exactly what he told me not to do.

I maintain eye contact with the lead wolf while I slide my right foot back. The animal lowers its head, lips curled. The wolf growls as if daring me to run. Instinct tells me that’ll be the cue that initiates the wolf's attack.

"That's it,” the unidentified man says. "Take another step back.”

The rear wolf’s ears twitch, rotating to locate the voice. It gives a low whine and dips its head to huff at the snow.

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