Page 6 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

Which means this is my chance.

Time slows as I grip the rifle tighter. My breathing steadies, my focus narrowing to a pinpoint.

When the wolf lunges out of the darkness, I’m ready.

Or at least, I think I am.

He’s massive—silver fur bristling, claws slick with blood. His fangs glint in the moonlight, saliva and venom dripping as he barrels toward me, silent and terrifying. This…he’s bigger than any of the ones I killed in the Crusades.

And I’m out of practice.

I fire, but it’s too late. The shot catches his shoulder instead of his chest, throwing him off balance for half a second. He doesn’t even flinch.

I fire again, grazing him this time, losing my nerve. He doesn’t lunge…just watches me, like I’m a curiosity.

“Shit,” I whisper, adrenaline surging as the wolf locks eyes with me. My hands shake, breath coming in short, panicked gasps at the massive monster staring me down.

If I’m gonna run, now’s the time.

I sling my rifle back over my shoulder and bolt.

My legs scream with every step, sharp protests radiating up through my thighs and into my chest. I know I’m too slow—there’s no way I’m outrunning this thing. I fought lycans in the New Crusades, sure, but that was years ago. These days, I spend more time planting beans than dodging claws.

What the hell was I thinking?

This plan was stupid. Drunk and stupid. Two people are already dead because of me, and if I don’t figure something out fast, I’ll be next.

The tree line’s finally in sight. Somewhere in the shadows, David’s waiting with the horses—or at least I hope he’s still there. The thought of Enid finding out I dragged her boyfriend into this and got him killed? Yeah, I’d rather take my chances with the wolf.

The sound of panting reaches my ears, rough and uneven. The wolf’s still behind me, but he hasn’t caught me–which, I hope, means that I hit him somewhere that hurts. If I can just get to David, maybe we can fight him off together. Maybe we can still get out of this alive.

Maybe.

I skid to a stop, leaning hard against a tree as my chest heaves. The panting stops.

The silence that follows feels heavier than the wolf itself.

I pull out my bowie knife and grip it so tight my fingers ache. The rifle slung across my back feels useless now. Bulky. Awkward. If he comes at me again, I need to be quick. Precise.

Focus on surviving. Focus on Enid. Don’t think about the field. Don’t think about?—

Boom.

A gunshot splits the air, sharp and close. Another strangled cry follows, then silence. My stomach twists.

That’s it. The last bounty hunter’s down.

Now it’s just me and David.

I push off the tree and take off running again, my boots crunching over twigs and leaves. My pulse hammers in my ears, so loud I can barely hear the wind in the trees. I have no idea where I am anymore; panic’s blurred all the familiar landmarks. But I keep moving. I have to.

I think I’ve lost him. For just a second, I let myself hope. I can’t hear anything behind me—not the wolf, not his panting, not even his footsteps.

But then I see it.

A dark shape flickers through the trees, too fast to follow. Its eyes catch the faint glow of the moon, gleaming like oil on water. My breath catches, panic clawing at my throat.

He’s toying with me.

---