Page 6 of Oath of Revenge

Then the anger returned to Brody’s face as he lowered his muzzle. “And what’s the point of a second life if I can’t see my family ever again?” Brody spat vehemently, anger burning hell-hot in his gaze as he clambered slowly to his feet.

The pressure on Wulfric’s mind increased, memories fluttering just out of reach. He shook his head and relayed the message they’d heard over and over since being turned. “We can’t go into Busparia. They’ll hunt us down and destroy everything we know.”

“Not everything.” Brody’s lip curled in disdain. “I know a lot more than just this damn forest. In fact, there are several of us who kept our memories, alpha.”

He sneered the word and spat blood on the ground, turning to face Wulfric, stretching to test his injuries again.

Wulfric’s body shivered in the cold, but his mind was frozen on the words. How had he kept his memories? That was the price of being turned into a Growler. The Elders had been performing that ritual for hundreds of years, but somehow Brody hadn’t paid the price?

It didn’t make sense. His head ached, and his body seemed to slow even as his heart raced at the danger.

He should end this farce of a battle. It wasn’t worth calling it an alpha challenge, as it wasn’t within the bounds of the law. Wulfric’s shoulders stiffened, and he lifted his head, breathing deeply through the pain as he circled the tree. The pounding in his ankle kept his mind in the moment, even though it tried to draw him into the yawning chasm of darkness.

Damn it, he was supposed to uphold the law and keep them safe, love them as they loved him. Wulfric took a shuddering breath, the scent of blood flooding him, calling to him to turn feral.

Focus, Wulfric, focus. Try to reason with him.

“If we go into Busparia, we’ll either kill or be killed. And we’re not going to attack innocent civilians outside the forest who may see us as a threat. That will just keep the fear of Growlers going.”

Brody took two steps closer, blood dripping steadily onto the pine needle covered ground. “The new queen and the general are taking control of more than just the capital. This winter is the perfect time for us to finally leave these cursed woods and go home.”

“It’s too cold.”

“Exactly! It’s keeping everyone inside, so we can slip into the country unnoticed. We’re protectors, soldiers, and warriors, but we’re stuck hiding in these woods like outlaws when our families are being killed in their own homes.”

Wulfric shuffled on his feet, keeping his weight on his three legs as the dizziness increased. “That’s not our home anymore. There’s no home left for us in Busparia.”

Brody’s toothy grin widened, red with blood. “Perhaps not for you...but if you won’t lead us home, I will. Step down as alpha. This is your last chance.”

Wulfric shook his head, tightness pressing on his chest as his vision swam. Blood poured into his eyes, and he shook his head again so he could see. But he was too slow.

Brody attacked, and this time, his aim was true. His jaws clamped around Wulfric’s neck as he viciously ripped at flesh and fur. Claws dug into muscle. Wulfric twisted, rolling them both on the ground.

He pinned Brody and dislodged him, smacking him into the dirt with a whimper. Then another wolf slammed into Wulfric’s wounded side, sending him sprawling. Spots swirled with white lights behind his eyelids, the gurgling of the river the only sound to be heard over the pounding of his heart. No birds, no woodland chatter. All else was still.

He blinked, seeing double. No, two more wolves had joined the fight and paced beside Brody as he rose to his feet.

“Finish him,” Brody said.

Wulfric’s breathing grew ragged as his head spun. He’d seen these two wolves with Brody in the past. Why hadn’t he opened his senses to inspect the area in a wider arc? They prowled to him, and he assessed his wounds, the situation, his surroundings.

He wouldn’t be able to take on two more uninjured wolves. He needed to find medicine or magic. They wouldn’t let him, and it wasn’t guaranteed that the Elders would help him, either.

Even though the alpha challenge wasn’t official and was completely illegal, he had no way of telling if the Elders would even side with him. They would likely say it was the will of their patron goddess and let him bleed out.

Where could he go? The gurgling river was the only sound in the night. The river. It would take him further from the Elders and their medicine, but he would at least be away from Brody and his minions. It was his only chance.

With a groan, he rolled to the edge of the bank and dropped off the ledge into the rushing current below.

The frigid, icy water enveloped him, numbing some of the pain. Gasping for air, he thrashed weakly with three legs, letting the raging water carry him away. He struggled to think, his mind became hazy from blood loss and pain, and his body grew weaker by the second.

Where could he go to lick his wounds?

Think, Wulfric, think. The river led through the center of the forest to the western border with Glathen, before turning more directly south and spilling into the sea. He had to get out of the river before the turn. The water flowed faster, and he grunted as he slammed into a rock. His vision blurred as he fought for air.

Get out of the river. And go where?

His vision began to darken on the edges. He only had a few minutes left.

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