Page 7 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

I veer right, sprinting toward the open grass. Maybe if I get out of the trees, I can make it harder for him to corner me. Maybe I can outmaneuver him.

Who am I kidding?

This is his turf. I’m deep in his territory, threatening his pack. This wolf isn’t going to let me go. My only shot is finding David and hoping the kid doesn’t screw up under pressure.

And then, like a damn miracle, I see him.

Annie’s pale coat shines faintly in the moonlight, pawing at the ground near David. Relief floods through me so hard I almost fall to my knees. But I can’t stop now. I bolt toward them, the sound of heavy footsteps closing in behind me.

“David!” I yell.

He turns, his eyes wide with fear. And then I see it: the rifle shaking in his hands. He’s panicking, his fingers tightening on the trigger.

“David, shoot him! He’s right behind me–”

The shot rings out.

Time stands still as I’m stopped dead in my tracks…and I look down to see a gush of blood.

He shot me.

Pain slams into me, white-hot and searing. It knocks me flat, my face smashing into the forest floor. My ears ring, drowning out everything else.

Somewhere far, far away, a single set of hooves thunders away. The sound fades quickly, leaving nothing but the deafening silence of the woods.

I don’t know where he hit me. It hurts everywhere. But my gut—it’s bad. Burning. Like someone lit a fire inside me and now it’s spreading.

Stomach wounds are a slow way to die.

Lucky me.

I manage to roll onto my back, every movement sending a fresh wave of pain through my body. My fingers brush the wound, slick with blood. So much blood.

Fuck.

My vision blurs, the stars overhead swirling like they’re mocking me. I croak out something, maybe a prayer, but the words are only in my head, a liturgy running like letters on a marquis.

I don’t really believe in you anymore, but if you’re out there watching, if you ever gave a damn, I’ve been a faithful soldier. I fought your wars. I killed in your name. Help Enid help Enid help Enid…

A branch snaps to my left and my head falls sluggishly in that direction to see the wolf–Reyes Garza–stepping out of the shadows, massive and hulking. His eyes gleam, catching the light in a way that feels too intelligent for something so wild. His teeth glint, sharp and bared, as a low growl rumbles through the clearing.

This is it.

He steps closer, his breath hot against my skin. His teeth scrape over the wound, sending sharp jolts of pain radiating through me.

I’m so sorry, Enid.

The thought surfaces, raw and jagged. Maybe I say it out loud. I can’t tell anymore. My senses are shutting down, everything narrowing to the heat of the wolf’s breath and the weight of his growl.

And then he does something strange.

He licks me.

One long, deliberate lap over the wound.

The pain doesn’t disappear, but it dulls, softening at the edges. My blood flow slows. I blink, tears blurring my vision—not tears of fear, just sheer agony.

“Stop,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Get…away from me.”

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