Chapter 9: Rogue Werewolves

Priscilla’s POV

Staring down the unhinged jaw of a rogue werewolf made me regret all my life decisions leading up to this moment.

I froze completely, adrenaline firing across my system. If I ran, I wouldn’t get far. In my inebriated state, I knew I wouldn’t put up a good fight. Dizziness curled in my eyesight, the sky swirling again.

Fuck.

The massive, wild beast stared me down, my heart beating wildly. My stomach jumped into my throat, making me so horribly nauseous. A matted, blood-splattered fur coated the creature’s body, proving to me I wouldn’t be the first meal of the night.

My head was reeling. Alcohol dulled witchcraft so that wouldn’t be an option right now.

I was so fucked.

I glanced at the tree line behind me and realized that my only chance at survival was to run blindly into the woods and pray.

Before I could give the wolves the upper hand, I sprinted as fast as my legs could take me, ducking into the trees. The abyss was opening in front of me, my heart hammering out of my chest, my breath stuck in my throat as fear coated me with its icy chill.

The wolf chased me, cracking and splintering through the trees with a loud crash. I could feel hot breath against my neck as I dodged beneath the snapping beastly maw.

I didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t have the brain cells to waste on that. I dodged the wolf as it slammed against a large trunk, just barely missing me. It yelped loudly as it scrambled back up to its paws, pursuing me like I was its only chance at a meal.

All I could hear was the pounding of heavy paws into the dirt just against my heels. A large paw swiped at my legs, sending me crashing down into the dirt. Without thinking, I grabbed a thick tree branch, shoving it into the creature’s mouth as it came down on top of me.

I screamed, struggling against the force, hot fearful tears streaming down my face. Soulless black eyes burrowed into mine as it mindlessly chomped down against the branch, ready to devour me. My head felt fuzzy, my body numb, but I pushed back all the same.

A roar broke through the creature’s frenzy. Its head snapped away from me. I followed its gaze to three shifters standing confidently under the moonlight. The werewolf tilted its head up to the moon and howled.

Unfamiliar growling drew my eyes toward some brush, I watched as two more matted, bloodstained wolves emerge from the bramble. My heart hammered even more loudly as the large creature gazed upon me once again, saliva dripping onto my clothing.

I couldn’t tell if the creature wanted to curse me or consume me.

The silence was deafening.

The massive, bloodied paw of the werewolf pressed on top of my chest, claiming me as if it was protecting a bone or a coveted toy. The possessive demonstration elicited a furious snarl from the giant body of a black wolf charging toward the werewolf with the force of a freight train.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the noises of an all-out brawl. I stumbled backwards; the brushing weight of the creature’s paw absent from my chest. All I could do was watch the dog fight unfold before me.

The green-eyed wolf looked soulfully at me once the werewolf was crushed under his paws. For once, Wyatt’s eyes gave away everything. Relief. Concern. Warmth. Communicating more than his lips ever could.

Those mossy eyes pulled me right in like it was only the two of us. Glossy ebony fur nothing short of magnificent.

The werewolf took Wyatt’s distraction, slipping out from under his paws and flipping him backwards.

I couldn’t fight the cry that fell from my lips as the bloodstained werewolf pinned Wyatt onto his back, belly up. Vicious claws tore up his belly, spilling crimson onto the earth. Wyatt yelped, using his leverage to toss the werewolf back against a tree trunk.

His two other shifters were keeping the other rogues busy, but their fight wasn’t nearly as bloody.

My heart squeezed painfully, my throat feeling thick as I watched helplessly. I couldn’t do anything. Everything was fur and teeth. I shook my head, trying to shake the effects of the wine off me.

Wyatt cried out again as this werewolf bit into him. The sound of his pain erased the sensation of fear, leaving only rage.

“Get off of him!” I shouted, against my better judgement and ran toward the danger. I grabbed a fistful of the werewolf’s fur, yanking hard enough for it to turn around and swipe a massive paw at me.

I dodged just enough to have the claws slice through my shirt, but not my skin. That seemed to be just the distraction Wyatt needed to gain the upper hand, his jaw clamping over the werewolf’s fleshy gait.

With a wet ripping noise, Wyatt tore out a chunk of the creature’s flesh. It howled with pain, breaking away from the alpha shifter and scampering off into the forest. Its rogue allies got the message, following their leader out of the fight.

After the immediate threat dissipated, I watched as Wyatt crumbled down, bleeding freely into the dirt. He wasn’t strong enough to remain in his wolf form, so the massive beast melted off him, slouching onto the ground, leaving the man limp on his knees.

Both of his shifters were by his side in an instant. I could tell by the anguish in the brindled wolf’s eyes, he was concerned about his alpha. Wyatt raised on hand and patted the front legs of the large creature.

“I’m okay,” Wyatt grunted, but the slash wounds against his abdomen begged otherwise. He tilted his head pointedly as if telling the other shifters where to go in the mindlink.

I stood there, uselessly, wondering what I could do.

Wyatt’s eyes fell on me again as stoic as ever, not nearly as expressive as his wolf made him seem. “Let’s go back to the packhouse,” he groaned, using the leverage of a shifter to get to his feet. He ground his teeth, pained as another stream of blood bubbled from his wounds.

My eyes slid down the deep slashes along his chest and abdomen. I don’t think I could have hidden the worry in my eyes even if I tried.

“I’m okay, Priscilla,” he offered quietly, as if the sentence was only meant for me.

A wave of dizziness crashed over me again, the adrenaline seeping out of my bloodstream as I turned towards the bushes and vomited up at least half a bottle of wine. The acidic taste of bile urged me to vomit again, but I kept it down, feeling my head reel.

To my relief, Wyatt didn’t look the slightest bit surprised. I’m sure I reeked of booze. Now that some of the alcohol was purged from my system, I felt slightly sharper.

Just slightly.

“Are you okay?” a hand cupped at the small of my back, a spike of tingles crawled up my skin at his touch. There was a waver in Wyatt’s step that betrayed how hurt he really was.

“Well, I’m not dead so I guess I could be worse,” I muttered sarcastically. “How did you find me?”

“I’ll tell you once we’re out of the open,” he offered, leading me in the direction I’m sure the lodge was in with his two shifters guarding us in case the rogues came back.