Page 114 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
From the sides. It’s faster than you think, and that tail is barbed!
I barked the commands, and my people flowed around the beast like a parting sea. Canines flashed as white, black, gray, and brown-furred wolves nipped at its heels. Each bite took a tiny bit of flesh with it only, but there were a greatmanybites.
And as its attention turned, the rest of us hit it from the front. In and out, teeth drawing blood, tearing hide. The moose turned unexpectedly, and its antlers sliced through the air. A horrific cry went up as a wolf was impaled, blood spraying from its hide as the razor-sharp antlers pierced it fully through.
The monster lifted its head, bellowing in triumph as it shook the body like a rag doll, spraying us all with the blood of our fellow shifter.
Which is when I ripped its throat out. At the same time, other wolves tore hamstrings or calves from the legs. The beast wobbled and fell, but it wasn’t dead. Its tail came whipping around, smashing the forelegs of one hard-charging wolf into dozens of pieces. I watched that wolf die too. The front of their body came down, no longer supported, and the hind leg of the moose repeated its earlier feat to the head.
But it was over, and the enemy knew it. I turned and ran on, leaving a cohort of people behind to ensure the beast stayed down. These things were tough to kill, and they could heal impossibly fast. I wanted it beheaded and burned. Fire was the only way to ensure it wouldn’t get back up.
Elsewhere, knots of wolves dealt with similar creatures, with about the same amount of success. But overall we were winning. I snarled, filled with pride at the fight left in my people. They had been scared and unwilling to strike, and I had doubted them.
But when the enemy came to their home, they fought back with all the tenacity I could expect. The Chained would pay a dreadful price this night.
But so will we. More will die before it’s done.
Dwelling on that now would only make it worse. I had to keep my wits about me, my brain working, thinking, acting. The Chained had to know it couldn’t succeed with a frontal assault. Not yet. Though it held many minor creatures within its thrall, beasts like the moose were few and far between.
I directed more of my people to tend to wounded as we gathered our full strength and headed to the far side of the den.There we found cabins aflame or outright torn asunder, planking and pieces of wood strewn everywhere.
And then there were the bodies. They had been pinned to the trees, their blood soaking the ground nearby, feeding the hungry roots. There were a lot. Few of my people had escaped the initial strike.
How did this happen? We had guards out. Patrols in full strength. How could they have found such a weak point, that we were not afforded any warning whatsoever?
I shook my head. There would be time to dwell on that later. For now, I had to focus on stomping out the last of the minions and figuring out what the point of this had been. Why would the Chained make such a pointless attack?
That was just it. Itwouldn’t. Which meant the attack wasn’t pointless. It had a purpose. But what? All it had achieved was to gather the pack,mypack, and have us drive its forces back. It had failed. All the wolves were awake and acting as one, stopping the Chained from—
All thewolveswere here.
I cursed, paws digging in deep as I spun and raced back the way we had come.
That was the point of it all—a sacrifice, a diversion, nothing more. Designed to focus all our attention on point.
Yet somehow during the attack, the Chained’s strongest weapon had never appeared. But now I knew exactly where it was. My only hope was I could get there in time.
All this time, the evil entity at the heart of the forest hadn’t cared about killing my people. It had shown but one focus, and one focus only to this point. And it wasn’t the wolves.
It was Sylvie.
Chapter Forty-Four
Sylvie
Istared out the window at the flames in the distance. Lincoln’s wolf emerged below me, the slate gray fur appearing far darker in the shadows than it was in the light. He paused long enough to toss his head back and howl. The sound was loud, penetrating the cabin walls with surprising ease and making me wince.
Elsewhere, more wolves took up the cry. I clenched my teeth, hoping they were in time. There were alotof flames visible, and as I watched in frozen fear, more appeared still. The den was burning, and I couldn’t shake the sensation that it was all my fault. That I had led them here, to this beautiful place.
I needed to do something.
Stay in the house. At least they can fight back. Would you be anything more than a liability?
The silence was deafening. I was alone, and arguing in my head, but the embarrassment of being useless still burned my cheeks.
That was the worst part of watching the den burn as the wolves fought to protect it. I was a witness. Nothing more. Locked inside Lincoln’s house, forced to do nothing but observe as the proud wolves fought—and likely died—to protect their home. I didn’t live there, but someone I cared for did, and I wanted to help.
Spinning away from the upstairs window, I searched the room for something movable. The empty vase on the dresser would do just fine.
