Page 54 of Wild Wolf

I cracked open an eye to discover a rather small but angry wolf with flame licking off her fur had taken up residence on my chest, and she growled and barked to warn any from coming closer. The barks had an amusingly squeak-like quality to them. The presence of flames burning in the air did a better job of establishing her authority.

Amber’s attention focused on something I couldn’t see, and she snarled, barked once, and flame intensified around her, blinding in its strength. The lack of heat startled me—or the lack of heat I could perceive.

Someone nearby screamed, although the sound cut off after a few moments and a second flash of light.

It amused me such a tiny wolf made such a dangerous adversary, but I decided to enjoy the show before taking stock of how badly I’d gotten my ass kicked during my one-on-many brawl with a bunch of asshole, murderous wolves. Amber finally stood down, shook out her coat, and hopped off my chest. I determined I hadn’t had my spine snapped or severed through the systematic testing of my fingers and toes, although moving sent zaps of lightning through my body.

Well, maybe I had broken something, but if I had, I’d heal. I hoped.

“All right. That hurt,” I informed Amber. She turned her head to me, and with her ears pricked forward, she washed my face with her tongue. I made a face, turned my head to dodge the slobber, and discovered a whole new world of pain. My yelp drew more attention than I wanted.

Desmond stepped into view, crouched beside me, and worked his hand under the back of my neck. Something made a rather disturbing crack, and bursts of white spun in my vision. “Remember what I said about broken necks?”

“With distressing clarity.”

Desmond eased my head back to center with one hand, and he poked and prodded me with the other. “One of them got behind you and snapped your neck, and Amber had a rather literal meltdown. This is why we’re generally hesitate to allow witches to undergo the ritual. Don’t move. I’ll move you, and we’re going to have to get your neck into a brace of some sort, else you’ll be breaking it left and right for a few days. You’ve been out for about an hour. One of those fucking witches gave us a bit of trouble.”

Amber hopped off my chest, but she put one paw on my arm, which I interpreted to be a display of possession.

My wolf approved.

“Any casualties?” I asked.

“Your snapped neck is the worst of them. Amber’s fine. Lane got a graze. Anthony has a concussion, as one of the idiot witches went for him and he decided to use his forehead as a weapon. He’s hardheaded, so it mostly worked. He knocked himself and the witch out, and Lane finished the witch off. My daughter’s dress has seen better days, and Richard’s gone flat-out rabid because one of the wolves landed a bite on her calf. Her calf? Won’t have a scratch on it by tomorrow morning. The wolf who bit her? He’s in literal pieces. Dante is trying to calm Richard down, but honestly? Richard going on a rampage simplifies things. He’s a bit wild right now, so we’re going to have to wait until Dante can work his magic or Nicolina opts to make this easy on us and plays the distressed damsel.”

“Richard went wild?”

“Basically. I think I mentioned that before. It’s no big deal for him, and he doesn’t smell sick, nor is his scent degrading, so we’ll let him work it out of his system. I think it’s because he’s forced to play Alpha when he’s really a submissive, and he short-circuits, especially when my daughter gets herself into trouble.”

Nicolina, whose gown had become rather short and scandalous since I’d last seen her, stormed over, her fists on her hips. “I am not a distressed damsel. I didn’t get into trouble, either. It was one bite, and I ripped the damned dress to make it easier to fight in.”

“If you would just play one for five minutes, your mate would be a lot easier to work with,” Desmond complained. “Or do that thing where you kick him and make him submit.”

“I’m not kicking Richard.”

“Then play the distressed damsel. Come on, Nicolina. He’s practically frothing at the mouth. If you won’t kick him, zap him.” Desmond sighed. “I don’t want to get into a fight with Richard today.”

“He’s not frothing at the mouth, Father. He’s just chewing on a log and growling.” The woman sighed. “I really don’t want to play the distressed damsel. And if I zap him, he might be out for the count for a day or two, and you know I hate when he’s down and out like that. How are you feeling, Declan?”

“I think I lost that fight,” I admitted. “I took a few out before I went down, though.”

“Yeah, you scored the highest body count. At one point, Amber and I just stood around and watched you work, right along with just about everyone else. You went from kind and gentle Declan to a badass with a frightening number of guns and no scruples about making bodies. Then they piled on and Amber heard the snap, and well, she snapped.”

Amber huffed and climbed back onto my chest and barked at Nicolina.

“Why are you barking at me? I’m not going to do anything to Declan. You don’t have to warn me off. You couldn’t fend me off, anyway. You’re a pint-sized freak.” Nicolina grabbed Amber by the scruff and lifted her up. “Five pounds soaking wet.”

Amber turned her ears back and showed Nicolina her teeth.

“Nicolina, stop taunting Amber, however much fun you think it is. If you’re not going to rein Richard in, get Xue and see if he has anything in his bag of tricks that might help with a broken neck, because the last thing we need is Declan being down for longer than necessary. Ideally, you’ll rein Richard in and get Xue. We need to get out of here, hopefully before the local police get here. We’ve had enough trouble for one day.”

Chapter Thirteen

Broken necks sucked.

While Desmond, Nicolina, Greig and Elliot handled most of the cleanup, Dante worked with Richard, who took his temper out on fallen trees in the area. At one point, I thought my truck would fall prey to the silvery wolf, his fur shimmering as though made of molten metal.

My truck survived, although the massive wolf bit one of the tires.