TALIS
I’ve been running for maybe fifteen minutes when the first of the pack finds me.
The mix of ash gray and light brown fur tells me who it is before the wolf lunges through the trees and takes me down hard.
It’s Loren.
And I’ll bet she’s been waiting for her chance to get back at me for her failure to convince Abel to mate with her. That or fuck her.
Who knows what Loren wants from a wolf with cold, dead eyes?
I go down hard, but I don’t stay down.
Out of all the number three’s in the pack, Loren doesn’t fill me with the sheer terror that Abel, Uncle Glynn, and a couple of the others do.
It isn’t because she’s a girl, or that I think I’m stronger than her, or anything like that. But because she’s ruled by her emotions. Or rather, she lets them rule her.
That’s not to say I don’t let my anger get the better of me sometimes. But at least I try to control them.
Loren never does, and when someone pisses her off, it’s all she can think about. It’s the reason she’s the next person after me that Uncle Glynn is often screaming at.
I jerk my elbow back hard enough for her breath to ruffle my hair as my blow winds her.
But only for a second.
Which is okay. All I need is a second to scan the ground before I roll onto my back. Then it’s a matter of just waiting as she erupts in snarling fury and leaps, her jaws going for my throat.
I wait until she’s closer, so close her momentum will make it impossible for her to stop.
Then, I grab the nice heavy rock on the ground beside me and bring it down on her head so hard I feel the impact of it shooting down my arm.
While she’s stunned, I bring my legs up to my chest and kick out at her, sending her crashing into a tree a few feet away.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I’m on my feet and running again because Loren is a shifter. Even though I’m a shifter and strong too, all I’ve done is slow Loren down. It takes a lot more than a rock to a head and bouncing off a tree to stop an enraged shifter.
But it buys me a couple of minutes to get away.
Then, I’m back to sprinting through the forest.
I’m not even trying to hide where I’m going since I don’t have time to run in anything other than a straight line. Neither do I have the energy to be leading the pack on a false trail and doubling back.
All I can hope is to outrun them.
As it is, it’s going to take every single bit of luck the universe will give me-which, considering my past, isn’t enough to fill a thimble.
I console myself with the knowledge that at least it’s not all the pack hunting me as I tear through the forest, batting aside branches that fly in my face, leaping over roots and downed branches, and anything that looks likely to trip me.
Most of the others only seem to go through the motions of the hunt, you know, the chasing, the occasional excited howl as they catch my scent, and that’s where it ends.
Basically, they do enough to convince Uncle and Abel that they’re serious, but they don’t really get involved. Not like the predatory ones do.
Those are the ones I have to watch.
With Loren hopefully still back there nursing a sore head or shaking off a headache, that still leaves Abel, Uncle, and two more I have to watch for.
For one moment, I’m distracted by the sound of a howl some ways behind me.
It’s not too close, but still, it’s close enough to have my heart racing in fear because it’s a reminder that tonight I’m the prey.
In the next moment, a blur comes at me from nowhere I can see and takes me down to the ground with enough force that for a second, likely more, I lay stunned.
Then, at the agonizing bite closing around my lower leg, I gasp and reach down to peel away the jaws that feel like steel clamps.
As I said, hoping for good luck has only ever gotten me disappointment.
I fight with increasing desperation to pull my leg free, while the scent of my blood fills the air as the wolf ravages my leg with single-minded focus.
The wolf’s name is Connor, and he’s a shifter who’s not entirely sane.
He doesn’t take part in the game of Let’s Hunt Talis because he’s after a prize, or to show off to Uncle, or impress anyone.
He takes part because he finds it fun.
By now, the agony of him tearing into me is enough that I’m no longer even trying to be quiet so I don’t draw any attention to myself. It hurts too much for that.
Tears soak my cheeks as the searing pain spreads up my leg, and all the while, my blood continues to pool beneath me.
Through it all, my wolf is silent.
Why the fuck are you not helping me?
I refuse to accept that this is the way it’s going to end. That I’m going to have my leg chewed off by a crazy wolf in our forest before Abel rapes me and then Uncle kills me.
That is not going to happen. This will not be my end.
I stop trying to rip Connor away and instead reach for my wolf.
If she won’t come out, I’ll drag her out kicking and screaming, if that’s what it takes. Whether or not she emerges crazed no longer matters.
The crazier she is, all the better, I figure, since what’s one more crazy wolf in the Merrick pack?
As if I willed it, even though I know I didn’t, my claws spring out of my fingers.
I don’t hesitate for a fucking second.
“Connor,” I snarl.
The wolf lifts his head, his jaws still clamped tight around my leg.
I stab.
The wolf freezes, and I take in the sight of my claws buried in his head, and then the wolf’s eyes dim, and he slumps to the ground and the jaws around my leg loosen.
I fall back and blink at the night sky.
I just killed Connor.
I legit just killed one of the pack. My former pack.
But before I can even begin to come to terms with how I feel about that, a furious snarl announces the arrival of a worse fate.
I turn my head.
As if in slow motion, I watch as Uncle, who’s still human, launches himself at me with the same level of fury I saw on his face before I ran from him on the stairs.
Oh, shit.
I try to brace myself for his attack since there’s no evading it. Not with my leg still trapped, and not with the speed he’s coming at me.
No matter how much I try to protect my face and my belly, his arms, his fists, his feet find those places, and more.
The force of his blows tear my leg away from Connor’s dead gaping jaws and tosses me around as I try and fail to protect myself.
It goes on and on and I lose track of how many punches, how many kicks my body absorbs.
All I know is that everything hurts. Even my hair hurts, until finally, I lay on my side, unable to protect myself anymore, too weak, too bruised and bloody to do anything but lay there, waiting-hoping-he puts me out of my misery.
When he stops, it’s so sudden that I don’t realize it at first.
Between a kick to my kidney and another to my cheek, the blows just stop.
I wait, my eyes still closed, for it to start up again.
But it doesn’t.
And that’s when I hear an argument and force my eyes open.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Uncle Glynn and Abel arguing with each other. Or rather, Abel looks like he’s trying to calm Uncle Glynn, but it doesn’t look like he’s having much, if any, success.
Right up until Uncle Glynn seems to feel my attention, and he jerks his head over at me.
For a long moment, he stares at me without saying a word as Abel keeps trying to convince him I’ve had enough. That he might kill me if he keeps on.
Then Uncle Glynn smiles and I go cold at the sight.
“You know what Abel. I think you might be right. She might still prove useful to us down the line. I’m going back to the house.” And with that, he turns and strides away, leaving Abel gazing after him in surprise.
Me? I’m not surprised. The only emotion flooding through my veins is the thought of being left vulnerable and too weak to defend myself in the forest with a naked Abel.
“Should I bring her?” Abel asks after glancing over at me.
Uncle Glynn shrugs. “Do what you want,” he says, not slowing. “I couldn’t care less.”
Then Uncle Glynn disappears into the forest, leaving the body of a dead wolf at my feet, and Abel whose eyes spark with realization.
This is the opportunity he’s always been waiting for.
Now there’s no Glynn to stop him because I’m worth more to the pack untouched.
There’s no lock on the door to keep Abel out, and Uncle Glynn has as good as told Abel he can do whatever he wants to me.
As I watch, Abel grins and starts toward me.
I take in the look in his eyes, and I know what he intends.
I feel myself going cold.
This time not with terror, but with fury.
“No.” My voice comes out as a whisper and, even though my body burns with agony, even though there’s not one part of me that doesn’t throb with pain, I force myself to rise.
“You will not touch me. I will kill you or I will die trying.”
Abel throws his head back and laughs.
And seeing it, seeing his complete confidence in himself, has me reaching for my shirt.
I tear it off me, and that silences him.
I reach for my jeans and rip those off.
Abel’s eyes go hot with dark lust, and he takes a step closer.
I stop trying to reach for my wolf.
I stop treating her like she’s not a part of me.
She is me, and I am her.
And the level of my fury?
Abel doesn’t stand a fucking chance.
I shift.