Page 41 of Samuel
Branches scratched my arms as we tore through the undergrowth, the forest stretching out like a maze around us.
“Get away!” I heard someone yell, the voice breaking with fear and desperation.
A chill shot down my spine—something about that voice was so familiar. But there was no time to ponder it now.
We burst into an enormous clearing, the sudden sunlight blinding me for a moment.
When my vision cleared, I took in the scene with a surge of horror: four rogue wolves were circling a man in his twenties, his dark brown hair matted with blood, his black clothes torn and stained.
He held a lone knife, his knuckles white as he swung it, trying to keep the wolves at bay.
The wolves growled, pacing around him, their eyes gleaming with hunger, their fangs bared. But he wasn’t backing down.
Despite the numerous cuts covering him, he kept his stance firm, a grim expression on his face.
Recognition washed over me, sharp and sudden. I could hardly believe it.
“Finn!” I yelled, taking a step forward before the rage and protectiveness swelled up inside me.
My cousin—he was in danger, and the wolves weren't going to back down.
“Blake!” Finn’s eyes widened when he saw me, but there was no time for a reunion.
One of the wolves lunged, and I didn’t think, didn’t hesitate.
I took aim with the gun Samuel had given me, firing a shot that cracked through the air.
The wolf dropped with a yelp, and the others turned, their attention splitting between me and Samuel.
The wolf I shot didn’t get back up. It dawned on me that the gun was loaded with silver bullets. Nice.
I felt Samuel’s heat beside me as he partially shifted, his claws extending, eyes glinting gold as a low, rumbling growl vibrated through the ground.
The remaining wolves snarled, their instincts telling them they were now outmatched, but their bloodlust made them desperate.
One of them sprang toward me, and I dodged to the side, bringing the knife down hard.
My blade caught it along the flank, and it howled in pain, staggering backward.
I stole a glance over my shoulder, and saw Samuel engaged with another wolf, his eyes fierce, a primal rage taking over as he grappled with it, his movements swift and deadly.
I could hear the wet crunch of bones as he twisted and threw the wolf to the ground.
Why hadn’t he shifted completely? Oh right, Finn was present.
Samuel probably didn’t want to reveal what he was to a complete stranger. I understood the logic in that.
I barely had time to turn back before the next wolf lunged at me, its claws slashing down my arm, but I didn’t falter.
I shifted my grip on the knife, ducking under its weight, and plunged the blade into its side.
The wolf yelped, its body convulsing before it collapsed in a heap.
Samuel was already at my side, dispatching the last wolf with a brutal swipe of his claws, his muscles coiled with raw power.
He let out a roar that echoed through the clearing, daring any other threats to approach. But it was silent. We’d won.
Panting, I turned back to Finn, who was leaning heavily on his knife, his face pale but alive.
