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The wolf is relentless, lunging and snapping and dodging the vicious slashes of his blade.
“Run.” He pants, chest rising and falling, his voice vibrating with violence. “Fucking run.”
Never.
My fingers go numb from the unforgiving cold, but finally, finally, I cock the crossbow. Load a bolt. Lift it. Force myself to still.
Breathe.
I steady my aim, my heart drumming in my ears, my vision blurred by tears.
If I fail, if I miss my mark, he’ll be torn apart.
Fuck, I don’t have a good shot. He’s moving too fast, thrashing everywhere, trying to escape those deadly fangs, and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Kody’s blood.
My resolve strengthens.
I pull the trigger.
The bolt flies, but it’s a wild shot. It misses the wolf by mere inches, burying itself in the snow.
Panic grips me as I frantically reload, cocking it again, my fingers fumbling with the cold metal.
“Frankie!” Kody shoves away the predator in a rage.
The beast pounces again, and this time, it catches Kody by the thigh, sinking teeth into flesh and muscle and shaking him through the snow like a rag doll.
His cries pierce the frozen air as he fights to escape. Claws rake across his fur coat, shredding it like paper. And his thigh…Oh, God, there’s so much blood.
I can’t breathe. My tears fall faster as I take aim again, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
This is my only chance, my final hope.
Just as the wolf rears back to rip off Kody’s leg, I release the bolt.
It flies true this time, piercing the wolf’s flank and eliciting a guttural howl of pain.
The animal stumbles back, momentarily stunned. But Kody, bleeding profusely from too many wounds, doesn’t move. He just lies there, the knife falling from his hand, which hangs limp and bloody in the snow.
No, no, no. You’re not dead. You can’t die, Kody. You can’t!
The wolf recovers, fury burning in its frigid eyes.
I scramble for the knife.
It lunges for him once more, jaws gaping wide, going in for the kill.
Time slows as I reach the weapon, the cold hilt biting into my palm. My vision clears, my focus unbroken.
With a bloodcurdling shriek, I leap at the animal and stab the blade, hard and deep, past sinew and bone, driving the hilt as far as it will go, plunging, plunging, plunging with all my strength.
My fingers meet the shaggy pelt of its neck. Its head falls to the side, and a geyser of warm blood coats my hand.
I land on the wolf, holding the hilt in a death grip.
A huff of foul breath hits my face. A snarl. A show of teeth.
Oh, hell, no.
I twist the blade and push with all my weight, driving it deeper, gripping with both hands now, trying to hold on while staying clear of those jaws.
It bucks and seethes and won’t fucking die.
Wrenching out the knife, I stab it again. And again. And again.
Die, die, die!
I hack at the indomitable beast, over and over, spraying blood and tasting metal. My molars clamp so tightly my jaw barks in pain. My shoulders and arms are on fire, and I can’t see past the gore in my eyes.
At last, the wolf from hell releases a great gasp and collapses atop Kody’s slack body, its lifeless eyes staring blankly.
I need to move it. Now.
Breathless, I ram my shoulder into its meaty torso, pushing and grunting against the impossible weight. When it finally rolls off Kody, I cry out, my heart breaking as I take in his torn and battered form.
Claw marks slash his cheeks and chest. His hands are mangled from countless bites. And his leg…
Stop the bleeding.
Darkness presses in around me as I kneel beside him and let my training take over.
Carefully, I rip the shredded denim on his thigh and press down on the wound. Oh, God, it’s too deep, too big. Blood gushes through my fingers, staining the pristine snow a deep crimson.
He’s bleeding out before my eyes.
Don’t think about it. You know what to do. Fucking save him.
I check his vitals.
Rapid pulse, weak and thready. Cool, clammy skin. Shallow breathing. Blood loss. Hemorrhagic shock. Unresponsive. Organ failure will follow. Can be rapidly fatal.
“No.” My voice cracks, watery with tears. “Stay with me. Fight, dammit.”
Desperation grips my heart as I yank off my coat. I don’t feel the cold as I remove the sweatshirt beneath.
Back in my coat, I tear the sweatshirt into strips and pack them into the wound, staunching the blood flow.
His face contorts with pain, but his eyes remain closed.
Still unconscious.
Still alive.
But his battle is far from over.
As the snowfall obscures my surroundings, my spine prickles. Danger lurks in the icy shadows.
More wolves? Where there’s one, there’s a pack.
We’re not safe.
“I’ll get you out of here.” My tears mingle with the blood on my face, freezing in the air. “Hold on, Kody. Just hold on.”
The howling wind mocks my promise, and the snow turns to sleet, covering us in a cold, white shroud.
