Page 47 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
But the evil of the Chained didn’t give up that easily. The creature, what was once a raccoon but was now grotesquely warped and enlarged, drove its snout into mine, cracking on bone and blurring my vision. I reeled on unsteady limbs that gave out under me, spilling me to the forest floor.
The shadow monster leaped on me, its teeth finding purchase even through my thick hide. I bit back a howl of pain. Sylvie might be listening. She would wonder why a wolf was so near.
So I fought back in silence, the pain a wonderful mind-clearing thing. My claws raked the vulnerable underbelly, ripping huge gashes in the thing’s armor. Heaving hard, I flung it free. The moon found the new openings as it spun, and smoke filled the air.
The semi-intelligent beast then did something I didn’t expect. It used the smoke for cover and fled.
Except it didn’t run deeper into the forest. It made a beeline for the forest’s edge.
For Sylvie.
Fear for her well-being poured through me as I tore off after the misshapen beast. Dirt flew up in great clods torn free by my claws as I closed the gap step by step. The Chained was not going to get her. Not this time, not ever.
I could see it now, up ahead, darting around rocks and over fallen trunks. I splashed through a puddle, and thorns tore atmy hide as I burst through a clump of bushes in a straight line, gaining ground.
The single-mindedness of the monster was its undoing. It never looked back, never tried to evade. I took it down ten feet short of the edge of the forest. My jaws closed over what used to be its head, and with a mighty whip-saw of my neck, I tore it half off.
The shadows evaporated and the moonlight melted into it, killing it for good.
Breathing heavily, I looked up. Just steps away was the lawn leading up to Sylvie’s house. It had been close. Too close.
The body at my feet stirred slightly. The shadows would eventually heal it if I didn’t burn it first. Gathering it in my jaws, I headed off deep into the forest to dispose of it. Permanently.
Behind me, Sylvie lay safe and sound, unaware of how close she had come. Which begged a very important question. Why was it trying to get at her in the first place?
If she was so tainted by the Chained already, a partner of it as the elders suggested, why would the Chained send one of its precious few twisted monsters to hurt or even kill her?
Like so much lately, it didn’t add up to any logical conclusion.
Chapter Nineteen
Lincoln
Ididn’t bother to clean myself before the meeting started. Ash still matted my fur, and the unpleasant scent filled my nose with every breath. I stank and was covered in minor wounds. Every eye was on me as I entered the meeting grounds, padding on all fours between the matching columns that marked the circular amphitheater’s entrance. That wasn’t unusual. I was alpha. I expected attention.
This time it was unwavering and intense. Hackles rose. Wolves crouched low. Human forms sat up with straight spines. The low rumble of conversation died away as everyone realized they were about to figure out why the meeting had been called so unexpectedly.
There was a mixture of wolves and humans on the various levels, scattered by familial groups, individuals, professions, and allegiances. Some of them watched with open hostility in their eyes, others with neutrality. Few were openly warm and welcoming. But that, too, was to be expected.
Everyone knew something was up, though I doubted any one of them knew what it was. They were all waiting for me to provide an answer.
I shifted as I reached the bottom, not breaking stride as I did—a subtle showcase of power and skill. It served as a reminder of why I was alpha and not any of them.
At the front and to my right sat a cluster of wolves in human form. The Elder Council, as they dubbed themselves, and most of them looked unimpressed. Of course, they would have seen such showmanship over many decades with past alphas. Why would they be impressed now?
“The Chained has sent more of his creatures out,” I said without preamble. “There was another attack.”
Simply ripping the bandage off and throwing the information out there was the best way not to waste any more time. We’d been doing enough of that lately.
There were shocked cries and outrage. Even some fear. Talk of the Chained was not something we did lightly. To many it was the bogeyman, the damned evil of the night, used to keep children in line when they were being unruly. But it wasn’t imaginary. It was real, and it was growing stronger, as this attack showed.
“Who was attacked?”
The question asker was a tall, slender male several rows up. He sat at the forefront of half a dozen or so other wolves, all of whom were clean and proper looking. Fresh haircuts, fresh faces, fresh suits. They were doing their best to look like boardroom businessmen, not wolves.
“Was it you?” Noel Rikke asked when I didn’t answer his first question immediately.
“No,” I said, deciding to reveal the truth. Some of it at least. “It wasn’t me they attacked.”
