The enemy didn’t even feel bad about decimating my pack. What kind of heartless bastards were they? Rage coiled tightly around me, and I dug my fingernails into my free palm, making blood pool at my fingertips.

I took a few steps deeper into the woods and then moved toward them, hoping to catch them off guard.

"Don't be an asshole, Earl," Goatee scoffed. "I'm saying she smells pretty. Maybe I’ll get a chance to breed with her."

Nausea rolled in my stomach. Why was he talking about breeding?

"Then say that. That's at least acceptable, and don’t get your hopes up. They already have someone in mind for her." The other guy shook his head. “Stop being an idiot. I got you on this crew, and you better not make me look bad. One more stupid move, and I’ll kill you myself.” He headed toward me.

I crouched behind some brush. Once they got near, I'd strike at the smarter one—Earl—before going after Goatee.

Forcing myself to breathe slowly, I let calm float throughout my body.

Earl lifted his hand, signaling Goatee to stop. He stalked toward me, his yellow eyes searching the brush.

He was about ten feet away, but I needed him closer. With Goatee nearby, I needed to strike fast and hard. Taking him out on the first shot was crucial. Otherwise, it would be two on one, and I didn't like those odds.

Goatee moved gracefully beside Earl. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as I thought.

Earl glanced at his friend. "She's close—"

His distraction was all that I needed. I lunged forward and slammed the knife into Earl's chest, stabbing him in the heart.

"What—" His words garbled as he snapped his head back toward me. His eyes widened, and he looked at his chest, blood already soaking his shirt.

"Shit!" Goatee screeched.

I wrapped my hands around the hilt of the knife and pulled back hard. A sickening sucking followed by a crackle sounded before the knife slid from his chest.

Blood gushed as Earl pressed his hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Walking past him, I readied the knife in my hand as Goatee charged.

"You bitch," he growled and reached for my throat.

I dodged him and straightened, slamming my elbow into the back of his head. He fell to his knees, and I grabbed the material and hair at the back of his head.

"You're going to pay,” he growled.

Irrational anger. Perfect. That meant I had the upper hand.

He jumped to his feet and snatched my hair.

Dammit, I should've pulled it up. I jerked my head away, but he held tight and yanked me toward him.

Fighting dirty it would be.

I pretended to trip and fall toward him. He leaned forward, his chest helping to steady me, and spread his legs apart.

As my shoulders connected with him, I lifted my leg, kneeing the asshole right in the balls. I didn't feel much of anything, but he released his hold and grabbed his family jewels like he actually had some.

Interesting. Either way, my plan had worked.

I punched him, and he tipped over, landing face first. Unable to bring myself to kill the asswipe now that he was the only one left, I kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

I surveyed the area, anticipating another attack, but all I could see was the man I'd killed moments ago. Hysteria clawed inside me at what I'd done.

We trained to fight, but I'd never killed anyone. I’d prayed every night that I would never have to. Obviously, my prayers hadn't been answered.