Page 82 of The Last Sanctuary
“Look what we have here,” Cobb shouted. “We bagged one! Told you it would work. Look what a beauty she is, too.”
Luna growled ferociously. She snapped and snarled, but it was no good. She was caught fast.
Dekker laughed. “Those teeth won’t do it much good, now.”
He stalked along the riverbank toward the sprung trap. The angles of his face sharpened in the dappled sunlight. He lifted his rifle and aimed at Luna. “What a pelt this one will make.”
Hidden behind the bushes, Raven reached for the tranquilizer gun, but the men were out of range, too far downriver. Helpless, she despised herself for her impotence. What she wouldn’t give for her rifle. With a gun, she would’ve had a chance to nail several of them, at least.
Her empty hands curled into fists. She didn’t have a weapon worth anything. Her whittling knife was worse than useless. Silently, she prayed that Shadow, off hunting somewhere, remained far away, hidden and safe.
“You can’t shoot it,” Cobb said, almost apologetic.
Dekker swung around and glared at him. “Like hell I can’t.”
“Vaughn wants to kill the white wolf himself.”
Dekker cursed. “You gotta be joking.”
Cobb shrugged. “You know how he is.”
“And how does he propose we bring it to him? On a leash?”
Cobb pulled a tranq gun from his waistband. He must have stolen it from the lodge, where Raven’s father kept a backup for emergencies. Cobb shot Luna in the flank. She yelped in pain.
For an agonizing minute, the animal thrashed and twisted within the net, but she was helpless. Raven watched in horror as Luna’s desperate movements slowed.
Recrimination burned in her chest. Without Raven, the wolves might be far from here. They’d remained close to Haven and the Headhunters because of Raven. This was her fault.
A minute later, the wolf stilled, unconscious.
“You gonna help me here or what?” Cobb asked.
Dekker leaned lazily against one of the hickory trees, arms crossed over his chest. “I pass. You want the glory, you do the heavy lifting, man. If you can hack it.”
Cobb grimaced but shrugged in resignation. He gestured to the other men to help him. They cut the wolf down, untangled the net, and tied her fore and hind paws together with rope.
Raven hated them all. She wanted to kill them. She wanted to run from the trees and attack them, stop them somehow.
They would kill her. She knew that. So, instead, she crouched, hiding, tears slick on her cheeks.
Cobb squatted and slung the wolf’s limp body over his broad shoulders with a pained grunt. “Damn, this thing weighs a metric ton.”
“Let’s go,” Dekker growled. “Every second we’re not hunting that damn girl, we’re just wasting time. I can’t wait to burn this place to the ground.”
Dekker headed back into the woods, along the path that led the few miles back to Haven, with Cobb at his heels and the other men following close behind. The beautiful gray and brindled fur pelts on their backs rippled in the breeze.
The Headhunters crashed through the forest. For several minutes after the last sounds faded, Raven crouched, her thighs aching, hands trembling, her pulse a roar in her ears.
They were going to kill Luna. Slaughter her like a pig. Butcher her wild beauty and reduce her to a flat, dead thing—a rug, a stupid cape for some cruel thug to wear. And Raven could do nothing to stop it.
A low, despairing moan escaped her lips. She’d needed water, but she should’ve done things differently. She shouldn’t have risked the river. Shouldn’t have believed she was far enough from Haven to take the risk.
She should have driven Shadow and Luna away from here, away from her somehow. She’d be alone, but they’d be safe—and alive.
She forced herself to stand on shaky legs.
The breeze rustled through the trees. Grasshoppers trilled. Birds chirped. Tiny creatures scurried across crackling leaves. She staggered to the riverbank, sank to her knees, and shrugged out of her pack.
