Page 121 of Fool Moon First Aid

“Fine,” she snaps back, letting me pull her up. Her whole body trembles, and bruises bloom all over her.

Leaning on each other, we make our way through the woods, our journey punctuated by too many halts. Despite the pain and the constant reminders of danger around us, we press on. Shouts and screams make my legs itch to run, and bullets spray the trees, shooting bark everywhere.

“Go. You need to help the others,” Natalie insists, trying to push me away for the sake of the clan.

“Not leaving you,” I protest, taking more of her weight to reassure her of my commitment. “The guys would never forgive me if I let you just…stay here.”

She lets out a pained laugh but grips me tighter. “Damn silver buckshot. Can’t shift,” she confesses through gritted teeth.

“There, look.” I gesture toward the faint outline of our village through the trees. “We’re almost home.”

Natalie suddenly collapses, pulling me down with her. “Ava,” she whispers, pointing with a trembling hand. “Hunters.”

My heart sinks as I scout the area, leaving Natalie briefly to get a clearer view. The forest crawls with hunters.

“It was a diversion,” I realize, a wave of fear washing over me.

The harsh truth hits me—the belief in our security was a mere façade, cleverly crafted to spread us thin and make us vulnerable. They lured us out, exploiting our trust in our defenses.

We are all scattered in the woods where they secluded us, taking us out one by one.

And we fell for it.

“Go,” Natalie whispers, her voice tinged with pain yet filled with determination. “You go. I’ll stay hidden.” She attempts to rise, but the silver in her wounds binds her, preventing any transformation.

“No way,” I protest, my eyes flicking between her and the advancing shadows. “We’re not splitting up.”

Natalie’s gaze halts me, a fierce resolve shining through despite her frailty.

“Ava, you’re stronger and faster now. You have the advantage. I…” She grimaces, her failed attempt to shift underscoring the gravity of our situation.

Witnessing her struggle solidifies my resolve. She’s right—stealth and speed are our allies now, not brute strength. “Okay,” I agree, my voice laden with the heavy burden of our choice. “Stay hidden. If you manage to shift, come find me.”

Natalie fades into the underbrush, her silhouette merging seamlessly with the night as if she were never there, but then she pauses, whispering urgently, “Wait.”

I crouch down, fearing she hurt herself more by attempting to shift. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, shaking her head. “Someone sent me a letter claiming you were part of the cult. I used it as ammunition against you, but I shouldn’t have.”

I nod, filing away her apology for later.

“Know what? Apologize later, after they are all dead. We can have drinks and laugh about your jealousy later.” Well, mocktails for me.

“Nachos,” she says. “Nachos and tequila.”

“You have to survive first.”

“So do you,” she retorts.

“I plan to.”

I shift forms swiftly, embracing the night as I stalk through the darkness. The cool air brushes against my fur, contrasting with the fire that rages within. Uncertainty about my pack’s safety gnaws at me, but hope keeps despair at bay.

I edge around the clearing, using their arrogance against them. They never expected a lone wolf to strike back.

I use their methodology against them, singling them out and taking them down one at a time.

Selecting a straggler, I launch a silent, swift attack. He collapses—a soundless testament to the folly of underestimating a determined wolf. Each takedown fuels my adrenaline, yet amidst the thrill, a pang of conscience emerges. These hunters, misled by their leader, deserve a chance at redemption, not death.

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