Page 76 of Feral Werewolves

I lay on the ground, in a haze of blood and pain and confusion, and I could tell that it was almost over.

I wondered if my life was going to flash before my eyes or some cliché shit like that.

I remember thinking idly that no one knew if that happened before you died, because no one who’d died could tell us what the final moments were like.

Which then made me think about near-death experiences, and I thought that was fucking weird, that I was here, bleeding out, being ripped to shreds, and I was thinking about shit like this, and what the hell was wrong with—

Something streaked behind the wolves on me, something dark and quick, something that nipped at their heels and distracted them.

I recognized the dark blur as Paladin, darting in quick and dancing away.

He was bleeding, too, his pelt matted and glistening in several places. But he was up and running and moving.

The wolves turned to look at him, and he took off running, at full speed.

The other wolves followed him.

Right,I thought.When we’re in wolf form, we can’t stop ourselves, sometimes, running after something that’s running. We’re all instinct. He’s smart. He’s drawing them away.

Paladin streaked off into the darkness, the other wolves hot on his heels.

I managed to get to my feet. Well, to all fours. I wavered there, trying to look around.

A yip.

Kestrel.

I whirled in the direction of the sound and then I saw him, staggering towards me. Where were the other wolves? Where was Paladin?

Where was Clementine?

I charged towards Kestrel, who turned and started running off away from me.

What the fuck was he doing?

I followed him, going faster until I caught up to him.

Then, we moved together, and I yipped at him, trying to communicate. Did he have a plan? What the fuck were wedoing?

But then the wolves came back, all nine of them, and Kestrel yanked me down and we hunkered there in the shadows as the other wolves sniffed around, howling and barking and obviously searching for us.

What to do?

Going back out there to challenge them was suicide.

Clementine was fucking gone.

And Paladin? Where was Paladin?

Going out there to fight clearly just got us killed. Hiding—it seemed cowardly, but in the grand scheme of things, if we wanted to find our mates and figure this out—

Paladin was there.

He was panting, his rib cage heaving, his fur plastered to his body. He nudged us both with his snout and took off.

Kestrel and I exchanged a look and then we went after him.

Together, we ran off into the night, and it didn’t take me long to figure out where it was that Paladin was taking us.

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