Page 118 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
Up ahead, the trees gave way to low bushes and open skies.
We burst out into the open, immediately pelted with thick droplets of frigid rain. The ground below was soft and mucky, courtesy of the storm still raging overhead. Rivulets of water had formed channels, following the slope down to the right. Mud flew in the air as the giant paws of the wolves dug in, seeking any sort of traction.
In the middle of the clearing, the tree-thing stood still, surrounded by the wolves of Lincoln’s pack. He now approached it from behind, snarling as it turned, assessing its situation.
I had no idea how close we’d come to danger. The sound of the storm was overpowering anything that would tell me if the river was nearby. Thunder cracked consistently overhead. Sliding from Linc’s back, I let him move on his own while I stayed a step or two behind.
The tree-thing rotated until it faced us. I think. It was impossible to know for certain without any facial features, but its body language made me confident.
“Give back what you stole from me,” I called as the night turned all manner of white and purple, the sheet lightning forking wildly through the sky above us.
Thunder crashed over us a second later, the sound loud enough to drive me to a knee momentarily. The tree-thing predictably did not flinch. Neither did the wolves.
The wolves growled and took steps forward. Pressing the tree-thing in tightly. I drew in a breath. I had no idea if I could repeat my sonic-scream from earlier, but I wanted to be prepared.
Lincoln snapped his teeth at the tree-thing and leaned forward. Above, the sky went dark as the lightning ceased with impossible finality, plunging everything into blackness. I reached out for Lincoln’s flank, unable to see.
But I could feel him crouch low and growl. Then he backed up a step. And another. He never retreated. Ever.
I swallowed nervously. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
I followed his steps, easing back and wishing I could see what was happening to make Lincoln retreat. The biggest bolt of lightning I’d ever seen slashed across the sky, and I got my wish.
I immediately regretted it. Boiling out of the trees and right toward us was a wave of tree-things. They stood half the height of the one that attacked me. Like saplings to a mighty oak. But there were alotof them.
Lincoln snarled orders, and the rest of his wolves spun on the spot and charged at the newcomers without hesitation. As they did, they took the attention of the bigger tree-monster with it. Lincoln never hesitated. The second it turned, he leaped on its back, bringing it to the ground.
Wood cracked and split as his jaws ripped it apart. Then he sprang free in a flash before the return blow could land. I took an unsteady step forward in the mud as the ebony-skinned monster lunged after him.
“Hey! Ugly!” I shouted, trying to get its attention. “I’m the one you want. I’m bloodbound.”
It hesitated.
Bloodbound.
The word echoed in my head once more.
“That’s right,” I said, stepping closer while Lincoln crouched low. “Focus on me.”
A wooden hand extended toward me. The giant gray wolf leaped on his back. Or tried to. The instant his paws left the ground, the tree-thing whipped its torso around, snagging Lincoln out of midair and using his own momentum to propel him up and over, before driving the wolf into the ground with a yelp.
I froze as the mighty wolf was slammed into the muck and lay still. Watching his body, I willed him to rise. To get up and fight back, but he didn’t so much as twitch.
Bloodbound.
The tree-thing came for me, stepping over Lincoln’s limp, mud-covered body.
“You killed him!”
I screamed, throwing every ounce of whatever was inside me into it. The impact hit the tree-thing and drove it back several steps. Tree-roots sprouted from its legs and dove deep into the muck, improving its grip. It slowed its backward progress and then stopped.
Searching deep, I summoned every last bit of mental energy and hit it again. Louder. Harder. Woodchips splintered from its body, flying off into the darkness. It resisted.
Then it leaned forward, throwing one arm up as a shield, and began to advance. My magic-superscream continued to crack and splinter the tree-thing’s skin. Pitch-black blood oozed like sap from a dozen places.
But still it came on, reaching for me with its other hand. Fingers of pointed stakes slashed at my face. I had to look away or risk losing my eyes, which redirected my scream to the ground. The sonic noise hit the muck and the reverberation tossed me backward.
The tree-thing was on me before I hit the ground, pinning me and driving one ebony finger into my shoulder.
