Page 96 of The Weakest Wolf

I send an apology to my wolf because if I had done what he was driving me to do: protect Sierra, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.

The teeth clamp harder as I lay trapped beneath more bodies than I can move.

At first, I think I must be dead.

But then I realize there’s no fucking way my truck would’ve followed me to hell. Unless somehow Sierra—

My eyes snap open.

A second later, I watch at least four wolves go down under the wheels of my truck.

The truck reverses, the horn still blaring, and then it hurtles forward again. Agonized howls and snarls erupt as the wheels flatten more.

As the truck backs up yet again, more and more wolves peel away, and that’s when I get my first glimpse through the windshield.

My eyes clash with a silver stare.

Sierra. She came back.

Her eyes widen in relieved surprise, and then harden with fierce determination.

She wouldn’t have come back if she hated me. She wouldn’t be relieved that I’m still alive.

I shake off the last of the wolves still pinning me down and turn on them with an enraged snarl.

We fight. We fight until they’re all dead.

25

SIERRA

“He’s still alive.” My breathy words aren’t the only thing that’s unsteady.

My hands shake on the steering wheel, as impossible as it seems when I have them clamped so tight that they’re going numb.

I should go back to running over as many of the pack as I can, but for just a second, I let myself absorb the fact that if I hadn’t turned back after I’d decided to leave, Galen would be dead.

There had to be at least twenty wolves piled on top of him that it was sheer luck I didn’t crush him.

Shaking my head, I reach for the stick to shift gears. Now that the pack has seen what I’ve come here to do, they won’t be so easy to kill, but between me and—

The car window explodes.

Glass flies into my face. I jerk my head away, my hand raised to protect my eyes from the shards that cut my cheek, which is when someone grabs my hair and smashes my face against the steering wheel. Blood bursts from my broken nose, hot against my lips and chin.

Moaning, I slump forward.

A second later, cold air warns me the door is open, and a moment after that, the same hands fist my hair and drag me from the car.

I hit the ground hard. My knees bear the brunt of my fall, but I care less about grazed knees and more about the hands threatening to pull every last strand of hair from my scalp.

I lift my hands to pry the fingers away, but the grip is so tight that I don’t stand a chance.

“Must be love.” His voice is like icy fingers all over my skin.

Suddenly I’m back in the cage and cowering from the chain that flays my back. Everything in me is broken, but he hasn’t finished yet.

He wants my mind as broken as my body.

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