Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
His goodnight kiss was soft and sweet, but I was cold without his body in bed next to me. Dante had laid two knives right under my cot, apologizing that he couldn’t find an axe. Weston shifted, his wolf licked my face, and he curled up on the ground at the side of my bed. The rest of the pack settled in around us and the emberflies drifted over them, ever our sentries.
I closed my eyes but I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t just because I was waiting for Alexander to show up. Weston was eager to get out of here, more than happy to leave this kingdom behind. But this was my home. It was all I’d ever known. Sure, the time here had been less than ideal in most if not all respects, but closing the book on it gave me a strange sort of melancholy I hadn’t been expecting. I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to leave—not this way, like a sort of hostage. Like a criminal.
There was nothing for it now, not unless we killed Alexander. It was either leave or be hunted by him and the organization indefinitely. I didn’t assume I’d be able to hide, not with drug use as lucrative and widespread as it was. The reward he posted for anyone who found me meant I’d always be looking over my shoulder.
Sunrise approached gradually, the colors bleeding from black to a hazy sepia. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten any sleep at all. All night I’d laid in bed feeling the dread building inside me. The emberflies had hardly moved, staying densely crowded above me.
One thought kept repeating in my mind: not yet.
It wasn’t time.
Nearly, but not yet.
Almost.
Finally, at dawn . . .
“Any time now,” I whispered, sitting up as though pulled by hidden strings.
The adrenaline kicked in, coursing through my body. If I’d been at home, I’d have expected the knock on the door at any moment. There was no point in second-guessing or in waiting. I knew as surely as I always had: he’d come to punish me, and he would enjoy every second.
Weston’s wolf’s eyes snapped open, his head lifting up quickly as I moved. A few others began to rouse as well, and in an instant they all did, watching me silently. I reached below my cot and grabbed my knives, meeting Weston’s wolf’s eyes.
“Get into positions. It’s happening.”
He didn’t question my surety and none of them delayed. They were up immediately, moving as a well-orchestrated team.
I walked toward the dying fire, the center of camp, the place I’d been told to stay while it all went down. Weston had agreed that there was no point in hiding me. He was reluctant to also agree that it would be best to use me as bait, even though we all knew it was true. I was the reason they were coming; I may as well be useful in luring them into Weston’s trap, if one could call it a trap. Traps weren’t usually so very obvious as this.
The first rays of sunlight gently illuminated the sky from behind the horizon. The emberflies took off in a hurry, a wave of dying pinpricks of light.
Sounds of snarls and the snapping of teeth announced their arrival, coming from every direction, surrounding us. Wolves and other animals ran toward us, the wall of furry bodies hellbent on crashing through Weston’s pack. They outnumbered us by two or more to one, their bodies were not as large but their sheer numbers making up any disparity.
I stood ready, my gut churning, watching for the flash of familiar fur working through the others to get to me. I knew it would be him that grabbed me. He’d want to claim the prize.
Teeth flashed and chomped down, someone yelped, another bayed in pain. Someone limped out of the way and a backup quickly took their place, chomping low and snapping the foot of one of our wolves.
“Damn it,” I said in a rush of breath, stepping side-to-side, turning in a circle to try and watch everything at once. I waited for someone to get through, to make a running leap at me. I was ready, my knives poised, no question as to whether I would use them. Survival was ugly. I didn’t mind looking it right in the face.
The largest wolf of all backed slowly toward me, Weston’s head low, his fur standing on end. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, why he was taking himself out of the fray. Bodies churned all around us, lunging at each other, ripping through flesh, splatters of red highlighted by the first rays of the sun. Another yelp and a wolf went down—one of ours. Theirs ran through the sudden hole, four bodies at first, shoving outward to make that hole larger. Others poured in from behind, suddenly putting half of our people on the outside of the circle.