Page 66 of License to Kill

His teeth were a lot bigger than mine, and I really didn’t want to find out what his larger jaws could do if he decided to take a chunk out of me. Since going on the defense wouldn’t do me any good, I lunged at him, snapping my teeth at his throat.

The bastard reared up, and more like a tiger than a wolf, he batted me aside with so much force I crashed into the coffee table. Wood cracked beneath me. Infuriated he’d tossed me with what seemed like no effort, I scrambled to my paws and jumped for him again, chittering my irritation.

Instead of using his paw, Jake intercepted me with his shoulder, ramming me to the floor. The air rushed out of me, and I made acquaintances with the carpet, my head spinning from the force of the blow.

Wolves did not fight fair.

I understood his point despite hating it. Unless I got really lucky, I had no chance of winning. The question wasn’t if I’d lose; I would. How long would I last until I gave up and acknowledged I had no chance of victory? That was the real question.

I could out-stubborn a rock when I felt like it. Normal rocks felt a lot less dense than Jake’s shoulder had, however. Groaning, I got back to my paws and shook myself off, flattening my ears at how easily he’d knocked the breath out of me. Brute force would win me nothing. I wouldn’t last long in an endurance race, either. Where I resembled a shaggy rug on the verge of matting, Jake’s coat was glossy with good health.

I was willing to bet the bastard had been working out, waiting for his chance to throw down the gauntlet and start a fight. A head-on assault wouldn’t work, so I darted for his tail, closing my jaws around the thick fur.

Twisting around, Jake gave me a good view down his throat although he didn’t bite me. Bracing my paws, I jerked backwards, giving his tail a vicious yank.

Jake didn’t budge an inch.

Whining, I pawed at his flank and tugged on his tail again.

He went as far as ignoring my efforts altogether, yawning and turning his head to inspect the damage I had done to the coffee table. Chittering my fury, I released him and lunged for his back, clawing at his thick fur in an effort to get at his throat from behind. With a single buck, he tossed me off.

Landing on the coffee table hurt, and it collapsed under my weight, leaving me sprawled on top of the broken wood. At least I hadn’t insisted on the glass table I had initially wanted. Picking splinters out of my fur wouldn’t be my idea of a good time, but it beat glass shards.

Jake sighed, trotted to me, and placed his paw on my throat, staring down his elegant nose at me.

I graduated from chitters to high-pitched barks, promising fates worse than death once I figured out how to get out from under him. While the weight of his paw didn’t cut off my breath, whenever I struggled, he applied more pressure, enough to keep me pinned in place.

My inability to challenge him at all frustrated me almost as much as his disinterest. Until I could offer him at least a little sport, he wouldn’t even pretend we were equals. Worse of all, I couldn’t blame him for it.

I would have done the same thing just to prove he needed to do better.

Maybe indulging in a temper tantrum only dragged out the inevitable, but I kicked my paws, snapped my teeth, and wailed my frustration and fury for the world to hear while Jake patiently waited for me to surrender.

I lasted for several hours, managing to escape three times when Jake lowered his guard and huffed his annoyance over my ability to wail and scream bloody murder with short breaks to catch my breath. At least the neighbors didn’t seem bothered by the ruckus; animals lived in the woods surrounding our properties, and our house was far enough outside of Baltimore to offer us a bit of space and privacy.

Unless someone came knocking at the door, the neighbors would blame the local wildlife.

Mustering enough strength to stage one final getaway, I lurched to my paws, startling Jake enough I hopped out of his reach, twisting my ears back while I panted. With a huff and a sigh, he followed me and licked my muzzle. When I didn’t attempt to bite his nose off, he nuzzled his way to my throat.

While I expected a pinch when he nipped me, a jolt ran down the entire length of my spine. A yip burst out of me, and my legs gave out beneath me. Jake’s teeth snagged my scruff and kept my head from hitting the floor. Instead of obeying my demands, my body twitched and tingled.

Jake lowered my muzzle to the carpet, stood over me, and bit down on my scruff, tugging enough I had no doubts he controlled the situation. Uncertain of what I was supposed to do, I whimpered and tucked my tail.

A second nip of my neck spread a soothing warmth through me, and when it hit my head, I relaxed beneath him, basking in pleasant lethargy. Releasing me, he gave the tip of my nose the lightest touch of his teeth before nuzzling at the side of my throat. After the first few strokes of his tongue, I regained enough control over my body to stretch out, giving him easier access.

I closed my eyes while he groomed my straggly fur into the semblance of order. With a heavy sigh, he laid down beside me, draped a paw across my back and shoulder, and seized the scruff of my neck again.

He gave a tug with his teeth, hard enough to startle me from my comfortable daze. Something sharp and searing stabbed through my head, and I yelped, whined, and struggled beneath him. He bit harder. Whimpering at the intensifying discomfort, I strained to break free of his hold. Pulling me closer to him with his paw, he trapped me against him.

One final bite stoked the heat into a blazing inferno, and a blend of shock and pain paralyzed me. When it extinguished, the howls of wolves thundered in my ears and drowned me.

Jake wouldn’t stop laughing at me.

According to him, I spent several hours freaking out immediately following him bringing me into the pack. I had no memory of it. The couch bore evidence of my claws tearing at it, the carpet would need to be replaced, and at some point, I had decided the ruins of our coffee table would serve as a chew toy.

What tripped his trigger, however, was my insistence on barking or yipping whenever I picked up anything from the pack. Since Jake hadn’t told anyone he was bringing me into the pack, he assumed the overload of shock, surprise, and interest had overwhelmed me, resulting in what he viewed as the funniest moment of his life.

Disgusted at his mirth, I retreated to the master bathroom, shifted back to human, filled the tub, and considered hiding for the rest of eternity. Unfortunately, the bathroom door’s lock remained broken, so Jake let himself in while I was batting at the bubbles.