Page 81 of The Pack

I brought my knee up sharply, driving it into his stomach. He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to wrench my hand free.

I didn’t hesitate.

With all the strength I could muster, I drove the knife upward, the blade sinking into his chest with a sickening crunch of metal on bone. His eyes widened, the snarl on his lips faltering as blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth.

He collapsed onto me, his weight crushing, his body trembling as the life drained from him.

I shoved him off with a cry, rolling to my side as I gasped for air. The knife was still clutched in my hand, the blade slick with his blood.

I stared at his lifeless body, my chest heaving as the adrenaline coursed through me. I wiped the blade on the man’s tattered shirt, my hands shaking as I forced myself to move. I had to run. I needed to get out of here fast, before the tribe realized something was wrong.

It was time to free my pack.

Tentatively, I moved the piece of wood and crept through the doorway, listening intently for any sign of life, for footsteps, for voices, for anything that might mean someone was coming.

Thankfully, all was silent, and I moved stealthily along the passage.

The tunnel curved sharply, the air growing colder as I descended further into the cave, following the path Amelie had taken earlier. My footsteps were careful, but quick, each one as silent as possible.

Finally, I reached the last turn, the light from the torch flickering just inside the entrance to the chamber where the wolves were being kept.

A shadow moved across the light and I froze, my heart lurching.

The guard was tall and broad, his back to me as he stood just inside the entrance. A crude spear rested against the wall beside him, his hand resting lazily on the hilt of a short blade strapped to his waist.

I swallowed hard, my grip on the knife tightening. I didn’t have time to wait, to think, to plan, so, I just relied on instinct.

Cautiously, I crept forward, each step slow and quiet, the soles of my boots barely making a sound against the stone. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I kept my breathing even, my focus locked on the man in front of me.

When I was close enough, I lunged.

I drove the knife into his side, the blade sinking deep into the gap between his ribs. He let out a guttural cry, his body jerking violently as he tried to twist toward me. I yanked the knife free and struck again, this time slashing across his throat.

Blood sprayed, hot and thick, as the guard collapsed to the ground, his hands clawing weakly at his neck.

I didn’t wait to see if he was dead.

I scanned the chamber for any more potential threats, my breaths coming in ragged gasps as I scanned the room. The pack was still there, just as I’d left them. Bound and bloodied, but thankfully alive and mostly well.

“Zara,” Magnus rasped, his silver eyes wide.

“Hold on,” I said quickly, fumbling with the bloody knife in my hand as I sawed through the ropes binding him.

When I finally cut through them, the ropes fell to the ground, and he surged to his feet, his hand gripping my arm. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. It’s not my blood,” I said, though my voice trembled. “We don’t have time. I have to get the others.”

Magnus nodded, his expression grim as he picked up the guard’s fallen blade. “Hurry.”

I moved to Killian next, my fingers surer with the knife as he watched me, his golden piercing eyes sparking in the firelight.

“You’re late,” Killian smirked, his tone dry despite the tension in his jaw.

“Good to see you too,” I shot back, relief flooding through me as the ropes fell away.

Callum and Tobias were next, their murmured thanks barely audible over the pounding of my pulse.

Finally, I reached Thorne. He was sitting up and alert, but there was blood smeared across his temple and his breaths were shallow. His blue eyes locked onto mine as I knelt beside him.

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