Page 9 of The Wolf

Texel’s muscles bunched.

That was all the warning she needed.

The wolf lord launched himself at her.

That was what she’d been waiting for. She only had one shot.

Scarlet swung the hoe at him with all her might, catching him in the shoulder and the neck with the sharp end. The metal bit into his flesh and Texel grunted in pain. Quickly, she yanked the hoe back, her breathing labored as the deep wound began to bleed. She retreated several paces and clung to her meager weapon as Texel inspected his shoulder. The injury wasn’t enough to kill him.

Stupid. You should have taken his head off.

Her knees threatened to tremble as silence descended around them. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath. Even if she had bested Texel, the rest of his men would dispatch her before she could utter a scream.

You’re going to die either way. Fight.

Attacking one of Arwen’s betas, especially Texel, would not go unpunished. Attacking a wolf lord spelled execution.

Texel focused his hate-filled mouth on her and growled menacingly.

This is it.

Scarlet’s number was up, and what did she have to show for it? She hadn’t done anything with her life at all. She’d acted as a puppet, bending to the will of first her father and then her stepmother, not a single thought her own.

Time seemed to slow and a sense of peace suffused her.

At least her suffering would end.

Texel growled again, breaking through her moment of peace.

A shiver ran down Scarlet’s spine as the wolf lord’s body began contorting for a shift.

Death would bring peace but she wasn’t going to die without a fight. Steeling her nerves, Scarlet wrapped her hands around the hoe with renewed resolve and forced herself to stand firm, ready for the inevitable.

The wind rustled her red cloak. Scarlet raised the hoe and aimed, preparing to swing again with all her might. “I don’t fear you.”

Texel snarled. “You will, wench.”

“That’s enough!” a commanding but strangely melodic voice cut through the air. “Just what is going on?”

Scarlet didn’t take her eyes from the bristling wolf who held hate and death in his gaze.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the wolves around them bow deeply.

Soft footsteps approached, announcing the presence of Arwen.

Scarlet’s stepmother.

Alpha to the pack of Betraz.

Old Mother to those who traded with her.

Death to those who crossed her.

And for once in Scarlet’s life, she was relieved to see the vile woman.

Which was a mistake.

She was in more danger now than before.

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