Page 3 of Savage Devotion
The wolf doesn't chase immediately. Instead, it tilts its head back and releases a howl that seems to crack the air itself. Calling the pack.
Now we move.
I draw my paired fighting knives and sprint toward the warehouse. My warriors follow without question. They know the sound of inevitable engagement when they hear it. The time for stealth has passed.
The carter stumbles over rubble as he flees, his panic making him clumsy. Behind him, four more ember wolves pour from the warehouse, their movements coordinated and predatory. They're not just hunting. They're herding him toward whatever trap they've prepared.
I reach optimal range and let my first knife fly. The blade takes the lead wolf in the shoulder, spinning it sideways but not dropping it. Ember wolves are tough with their transformed nature makes them resistant to conventional wounds.
But I don't use conventional tactics.
The second knife follows immediately, aimed not at the wounded wolf but at the stone wall beside it. The blade strikes with enough force to chip the masonry, sending a shower of small rocks clattering across the ground. The sound confuses the pack's coordination for just long enough.
I close the distance while they're distracted. The wounded wolf turns toward me, fire spilling from its jaws like molten drool. It lunges, powerful enough to knock a man flat.
I'm not there when it lands.
Side-step. Duck. Let momentum carry the beast past me while my retrieved knife opens its throat in passing. The wound hisses and steams, but it's deep enough. The wolf collapses, twitching once before going still.
One down.
The pack leader, a monster, fixes its burning gaze on me. This close, I can see the intelligence behind the flames. Ember wolves aren't just beasts anymore. They think. They plan. They remember grudges.
And this one has decided I'm worth killing personally.
It doesn't charge like the first one. Instead, it circles, forcing me to split my attention between itself and its remaining pack mates. Two wolves keep moving toward the carter while the fourth positions itself to cut off my retreat.
Classic pack tactics. They've been hunting humans long enough to adapt.
The carter reaches his cart, probably hoping to find a weapon among his cargo. Instead, he trips over the canvas cover and sprawls across his mysterious merchandise. Whatever he's hauling shifts and clanks with the impact—definitely metal.
The two wolves pursuing him slow their approach. They know he's trapped. Now they can take their time, coordinate with the pack leader's attack on me to ensure maximum chaos.
Behind me, Thane and the others engage the fourth wolf. I hear the ring of steel, a yelp of pain that might be human or lupine. No time to check—the pack leader has finished its assessment and ended this.
It comes in low and fast, aiming for my legs. Smart. Take away my mobility, and the fight becomes a slaughter. But I've faced ember wolves before, in the months after the Blazing when they first started appearing in the ruins.
I leap straight up as it passes beneath me, then drop onto its back with both knives reversed. The blades punch through hide and muscle, finding the ribs. The wolf staggers but doesn't fall. They are built to endure punishment.
It bucks and twists, trying to throw me off. Fire erupts along its spine, singeing my leathers and filling my nostrils with the smell of burned hide. My hide. But I hold on, working the knives deeper, looking for something vital.
A scream from the carter's direction splits my focus. One of the remaining wolves has him pinned, its jaws inches from his throat. The other circles the cart, investigating his cargo with intelligent curiosity.
What are you hauling that interests them so much?
The pack leader beneath me finally manages a move I don't expect. It rolls. All its weight plus mine comes down on my left shoulder, driving us both into the ash-covered stone. Pain explodes through my arm, but I keep my grip on the knives.
The wolf rolls again, this time catching my ribs against a piece of rubble. Something cracks. Not broken, but definitely bruised. I need to end this before it wears me down completely.
I release my left-hand knife and grab the beast's ear, yanking its head around to expose the throat. The right-hand blade sweeps across in a single brutal stroke, opening the great vessels that feed its burning brain.
It dies with a sound like a smithy's forge being doused with water.
Two down.
I roll away from the corpse and assess the situation. Thane and the others have finished their wolf. I can see it motionless near the warehouse entrance. But the carter is still in immediate danger, and whatever he's carrying has definitely caught the remaining wolves' attention.
The canvas covering his cart has shifted, revealing the corner of something metallic and inscribed with symbols. Even from this distance, I can see the faint glow that signifies magical enchantment.
