Page 6 of The Pack

Then came the sound of heavy boots, of voices shouting, and the loud crack of a rifle echoing through the forest.

I turned toward the noise, my heart hammering in my chest. The woods were closing in, the shadows clawing at me as I ran, desperate to find him, to warn him, to dosomething.

His face flashed again, but this time it was different. His expression was hollow, his eyes wide with terror. He reached for me, his lips moving, but no sound came. Behind him, the worldblurred into chaos—flashing lights, gunfire, the faint outline of men in uniforms dragging him away.

“Zara,” he said again, this time barely a whisper.

And then he was gone.

I jolted awake, gasping for breath, my hand clutching the knife so tightly my knuckles ached. I stared at the simmering coals still left of my small fire for a long moment before closing my eyes again, and I fell back asleep.

The rest of the night passed by, somehow, and when the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, I felt a brief, fleeting sense of relief.

It didn’t last.

I woke to the sound of growling.

Not a single growl, but many—low, guttural, and close. My eyes snapped open, and, for a moment, I thought I was still dreaming—please, let me still be dreaming—but no. The fire had burned down to embers, the world outside my hollow was pale gray with morning light, and the growling was real.

I crawled to the edge of the hollow, my movements slow and silent. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure whatever was out there could hear it.

Then I saw them.

A pack of wolves, six or seven of them, stalking through the trees.

They were massive, larger than the wolf I’d seen yesterday, their fur matted and patchy, their yellow eyes glowing faintly in the soft light of morning. Their movements were jerky, unnatural,as if they were barely holding themselves together. Some were fully wolf-like, others with warped human limbs or faces peeking through the fur. The sight of them was terrifying.

Shifters. More of them…

My breath caught in my throat as I watched them sniff the air, their heads turning toward my hollow. My fingers tightened around the knife.

Fuck. They’d caught my scent.

The largest of the pack—a hulking beast with black fur and eyes like burning coals—let out a bone-chilling howl. The others joined in, their cries echoing through the forest.

And then they charged.

“Shit!” I scrambled backward as they barreled toward the hollow. The roots of the tree provided some cover, but it wouldn’t hold for long. I gritted my teeth, my mind racing.

Think, Zara. Think.

The first wolf hit the hollow like a battering ram, its claws tearing at the roots. I lunged forward, slashing with my knife. The blade caught it across the snout, and it yelped, pulling back, but another was already pushing forward.

I kicked out, catching the second one in the jaw. It snapped at my leg, its teeth missing my skin by mere inches. I slashed again, this time aiming for the eyes, but it was too fast, and I missed.

Desperate to get away, I rolled out of the hollow and staggered to my feet, clutching the knife as the pack closed in around me. Their growls filled the air, their glowing eyes fixed on me like I was the most enticing kind of prey.

This was really bad…

I swung the knife wildly as one lunged at me, catching it across the throat. Blood sprayed, and the wolf crumpled to the ground, twitching, but there were still too many of them to even think about celebrating my victory in that moment.

The leader of the pack growled low, crouching as it prepared to spring. I backed up, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My hands were slick with blood. I hoped it wasn’t mine.

I didn’t know how this could get any worse. My outlook was looking pretty fucking dismal right now.

I couldn’t outrun them. I couldn’t fight them all.

I was going to die.

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