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I turned to Mark.
His eyes were blazing,
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his. “Are you with me?”
His breath was hot against my face. “Gordo.”
moon
THE STREETS of Green Creek were awash with blood.
Men and women—all hunters—stared sightlessly at the sky, eyes reflecting the full moon.
Their guns lay scattered in the snow.
There were Omegas. Full wolves. Some half-shifted. One whined at me as we passed it by, reaching its hands toward me. Its lower half had been crushed as if it’d been rolled o
ver. Nothing could be done to save it.
Mark had shifted back into a wolf.
He stood above the Omega, head cocked down at it.
It reached up and ran a single hand through the hair on his throat.
It was over quick. Mark reached his head down and snapped its neck.
It didn’t move after that.
He returned to my side.
We came to an overturned truck on fire, flames sputtering out into the snow. A pair of legs stuck out from beneath the cab. Another hunter had tried to crawl away but had been caught by a wolf. I didn’t know where his arm had ended up.
From out of the trees stepped Robbie Fontaine, shifted and tense, followed by a small group of Omegas.
He came to me and pressed his nose against my hip. He huffed out a breath, leaving his scent upon me. I ran my hand between his ears. He leaned into the touch. There was a question sent, and I said, “We have to move. She’s going to hurt everyone.”
Robbie stepped away, turning over his shoulder to growl at the Omegas behind him. They flattened their ears. One hissed back at him, jaws stretched wide, but it subsided when Robbie let out a rough bark.
He fell in step beside me, and we moved on.
Kelly and Carter were next. They came out from between two houses, their muzzles caked with blood. Carter snarled at the sight of us, his hackles raised, beginning to coil like he was going to strike. Kelly moved in front of him, throat rumbling almost like he was purring. Carter’s eyes flickered between his normal blue and violet, and he whined, sounding confused. The timber wolf came up behind him, rubbing against his side. Carter allowed it for a moment before he turned his head and snapped at the wolf. It bared its teeth back at him, not moving away.
They surrounded me. Kelly and Robbie moved side by side. Carter and the timber wolf were to my left, next to Mark. More Omegas came out from the trees. All were shifted. One looked as if its leg had been severely broken. I saw the flash of wet white bone as it held the leg up against its stomach.
I could feel them.
My pack.
The Omegas.
A violent thrum that made my head ache.
The Alphas were waiting for us at the top of a hill, surrounded by feral wolves who seemed to want to get as close to Ox as they could. They were whining and barking in low, coarse tones, their songs running through us like a storm.
Behind them were the bodies of more hunters, mouths agape, arms stiff and hands frozen above them, as if they were still trying to ward off wolves, even in death.
I felt no pity for them.
