Page 56 of Wolf Marked

That’s for all the innocent people your pack has killed. For Mikel. For the children. For Henrick and Dana’s mates.

The skinny man had to be dead, but she didn’t have time to check for sure. Nails bit into her shoulders and terrible scents filled her nose again. Instinctively, Astrid threw her head back and connected with something solid. Pain exploded behind her eyes and bursts of colors danced in her vision, but the audible crack behind her confirmed that she had broken bones—most likely his nose. When the man staggered back, cursing, she dropped to the ground and swung out her leg at the same time. She caught her assailant around the ankles, and he fell on his bottom in the snow.

And this is for my pack family who died from your arrows.Before he could climb back to his feet, she ripped her spear out of the ground and stabbed him oncein the chest. The man’s hateful stare stayed locked on Astrid as he squirmed for a few breaths, then shuddered one final time.

Pulse racing, she ripped out her spear and scanned the area. Jerrick’s men stopped spilling in from the entrance at least, but everyone was locked in heated battle. Erec fought off two wolves, narrowly missing their teeth every time they snapped in his direction. Besides a split lip, he didn’t seem to have any injuries that she could see.

Filip was withdrawing his sword from a man’s stomach when her eyes found him. The enemy’s blood coated the blade. He kicked him onto the ground, near three other slain comrades.

Their father was not far off, either. He ran full speed, shield out, at a wave of charging foes. When they collided, Boden managed to knock every one of them down without so much as swinging his own axe. Then, he rushed forward, grabbing any enemy he could find within arm’s reach, and took them down in a matter of seconds.

Astrid had seen her father fight a handful of times before, but he was still a terrifying sight to behold. With his enormous size, power, and ruthlessness on the battlefield, there was a reason their neighbors had given him the nickname Boden the Warrior. He was more beast than man in a fight.

Someone shoved her from behind, and she smacked face-first into the snow. Her breath rushed out from the impact. Laughter erupted over her, a high-pitched cackle. She tried to get up, but the man jumped on top of her, pinning her down. His massive weight was like a boulder on her back.

“I like them fiery.” His hot breath spilled past her ear, smelling of spoiled fish and making her gag. What made her stomach churn even more was the hardness pressing into her backside, telling her that this man had other things in mind than just killing her. A sickening thought crossed Astrid’s mind. Did Jerrick’s men rape the women in the packs they invaded before killing them? Anger lit her insides. What vile pigs. There was no way she was going to let that happen.

Searching through her memories for a training technique that might save her, she came up empty. She was on her own here. Rocking her body side to side, she tried to pitch him off, but he didn’t move. Just laughed. Her fury grew, and in one swift motion, she threw her elbow back into his ribs and whipped around so that he was on his back and she was on top of him.

“You little bitch!” His arms wrapped around her middle, keeping their bodies pressed against each other. “Now you’re asking for it.”

She twisted against him.

There was a whoosh of air, a loud thump, and the man’s body sagged under her. As soon as his grip loosened, Astrid jumped to her feet. When she turned around, she saw Erec standing there, his shoulders trembling with rage. A sword was in his hand now, and the man that had been holding her was missing his head. Erec had decapitated him.

Astrid swallowed roughly. “That was a little close, don’t you think?”

When she and Erec locked eyes, his expression was all seriousness. “Be careful, Astrid,” was all he said before rushing back into the throng of battling men and women.

She picked up her spear. A wail to her right captured her attention. Filip was surrounded by another group of men. Crimson stained his clothes and smeared across his forehead, but he was moving faster than she’d ever seen him move, deflecting every one of the three attackers’ blows. He struck one in the back of the head with his fist, sending him stumbling, as the other two threw punches his way. Filip swiped his sword, the blade whistling through the air with its speed, and cut off one of their arms. Blood spurted from the wound, and the man howled in pain. As his weapon plunged into the gut of the last man standing, a fourth appeared and hurled himself at Filip, jumping onto his back. That’s when Astrid saw the flash of metal in his meaty hand.

“Filip!” Her strangled cry hadn’t come out quick enough, and the man stuck the knife into Filip’s side. Her brother groaned and dropped to his knees, his face turning a ghostly shade of white. “No!”

The battle around her blurred as Filip’s pain and panic collided with her aura. Her own side throbbed unbearably, as if his wound had become hers through the pack ties that bound them. Or maybe it was because they were siblings and their connection had always been a little stronger. Either way, the pain was excruciating; it was enough to make her dizzy.

Then, Astrid’s feet were moving without thought, forcing her through the mass of warring men and women toward her brother. She didn’t care about the danger hovering so close. She had to get to him. But no matter how fast she told her legs to run, her body seemed to be going in slow motion. Every step dragged. Every movement was strenuous and difficult. Whether it was from her brother’s pain invading her spirit or from her own paralyzing fear, she didn’t know. But it left her powerless to watch Filip’s opponent rip out the knife and hold it up again, ready to thrust it once more and finish the job.

“No!” She didn’t even hear her scream over the roar of the fighting around them. Fumbling with the grip of her spear, she pulled her arm back and flung her weapon ashard as she could in his direction. It seemed to hover in the air in its sluggish momentum, but to her relief, it hit her target square in the chest. The man fell off Filip with a grunt.

Only when she reached her brother’s side did her senses return to normal and the actual speed of events returned. She dropped to her knees beside him and saw the knife half buried in the white fluff. Its one edge had been crafted with jagged points, like a saw. That kind of weapon was meant to deliver as much damage as possible and render a slow and painful death. Dread engulfed her, her chest tight. At least Filip was still upright, but he clutched his bleeding side, his face paler than the snow.

“You’re going to be all right,” she whispered, pressing her own shaking hands against the wound. With the battle still raging around them, she needed to get Filip out of harm’s way first. He was losing too much blood and too fast. “Keep pressure on it. I’ll bring you to Mila.”

His brown eyes snapped her way. “No,” he croaked out. “No, I’m fine. Help me up.”

“Filip—” But he was already hauling himself to his feet. She rose with him and steadied him when he stumbled a bit. His pain lanced her side again, making hot bile rise in her throat. She clenched her teeth. “We have to get you out of here.”

He didn’t argue this time as she draped his arm around her shoulder. When his weight leaned against her, she almost toppled over.

“Here. I got him.” It was Bec, naked, fresh from the shift back into human form. His left eye was blackened and swollen and there was a nasty bite mark marring his forearm. He took Filip’s arm from Astrid and supported his limp body. Filip’s eyes were beginning to roll back into his head.

Her heartbeat sped up with worry. “Take him to Mila,” she shouted. “Hold the bleeding off as long as possible, so it can heal.” A normal wound would have taken a couple of hours to clot for their kind, but Astrid had a bad feeling that weapon’s jagged edges had done more damage than what could be seen on the outside.

He won’t die. He won’t die. He won’t die.

A knot sat in the bottom of her throat, and no matter how hard she swallowed, she couldn’t push it down. Bec nodded and walked toward the cabins with Filip in tow. Thankfully, most of the fires started by the flaming arrows had been put out by whoever was left not fighting, and only smoke rose from rooftops, not flames.

When Filip and Bec were out of sight, Astrid turned back around. To her surprise, Jerrick’s men were retreating back through the hidden entrance. That tickled her as odd,but she wasn’t going to complain. And where was Jerrick? She’d never seen the alpha before or knew what he looked like, but with all the stories she’d heard about him, she was sure she’d be able to pick him out of a crowd. Maybe her pack had surprised them with their numbers and skill, like Erec had suggested they might, and he’d thought it best to have his men leave now while they could.

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