Page 34 of Runt of the Pack
On hands and knees, I suck desperate breaths, ribs screaming in protest. Roan looms above, jaws gaping wide. This is it. With my last ounce of strength, I drive my blade upward, angling for his heart.
Suddenly, shouts and snarls erupt behind us. A dozen fighters from my pack converge on Roan, dragging the snarling wolf down under their combined weight.
I glance back to see Roan’s massive wolf form disappear beneath a writhing pile of enemies. My warriors have him contained for now, but I must move quickly. Anya needs me.
“Brother…” Enrico grasps my shoulder, face grim.
I swallow hard and push myself upright, swaying. “The basement...”
We descend into musky darkness. Groans and whimpers echo from behind metal doors lining the dank stone corridor. My gut twists with fury and revulsion. But she’s here. I can feel it.
At the end of the hall, we stop before an ancient oak door barred with rusted iron. As Enrico and I pry back the warped planks, the stench hits me like a blow—blood, sweat, fear.
My knees nearly buckle. Chained to the grimy floor, hair matted and clothes torn, is my Anya. Her deadened gaze lifts to meet mine, reignited with life as moonlight floods her cell.
“V-Vlad?” Her voice quivers with disbelief as she utters my name, as though beholding a dream.
I crush her fiercely to my chest, a broken whisper against her hair. “I’m here, my love... I’m here...”
Her tears flow freely now as she clings to me, desperately.
Quickly, I remove my thick fur coat and wrap Anya’s frail frame in its warmth, trying to shield her from this dank cell’s chill. She trembles like a frightened deer in my arms. I tighten my embrace, stroking her matted hair as her tears soak my shirt.
“Shhh. You’re safe now… I have you,” I murmur. With utmost care, I lift Anya’s diminished weight and settle us both atop the moldy straw pallet. She immediately curls into me, head tucked beneath my chin. My throat tightens at how she seeks comfort and safety in my presence, even after enduring gods know what torments here.
“Rest easy, my heart,” I rasp, continuing to stroke her hair as her breathing evens out. “I’ll get you home.”
27
VLAD
Blood pounds in my ears as we cut our way through the labyrinthine halls of Roan’s lair. The battle fever still simmers in my veins, but finding Anya has pacified the savage beast within. My only thoughts now are of getting her to safety.
I cradle Anya close, shielding her with my body as we push through clashing warriors in the grand foyer. My forces have subdued the remnants of Roan’s wolves. As their new Alpha by conquest, they kneel in surrender, pledging allegiance to my pack. But there will be time for consolidation later—right now, I need to get Anya away from this place.
Enrico and Thane gather our warriors, their faces stone masks splattered with gore. We have won the day, but the bitter price paid in blood darkens the mood of victory. I nod to Enrico. “See that Roan is secured as our prisoner until I decide his fate. Guard him well.”
Hoisting the massive oak doors open, I step out into the crisp night air, breathing deeply to dispel the choking stench of battle. Anya shivers in my arms, frail and bird-like. I pull my fur cloak tighter around her bare shoulders and pick up the pace, heading for the tree line.
The forest embraces us in moon-dappled shadows. Anya relaxes slightly as we put distance between ourselves and that monstrous place. But she stays silent, face buried against my chest as if she fears this is only a dream.
My feet pound against the ground, devouring the miles beneath them. My sole purpose is to protect Anya, shield her from harm, and bring her to safety. Her heartbeat, delicate and fragile, beats alongside mine like a captive bird longing for freedom. Nothing else matters but getting her home, tending to her injuries, and helping her broken spirit regain the strength and will to soar free once more.
We journey on. Anya drifts in and out of consciousness, drained and exhausted. When the dense woods finally thin ahead, emotion closes my throat. Our cabin, nestled in the valley just as I left it. Home.
My pace slows on the overgrown path. “We’re here, my love,” I rasp, my voice ragged. Anya peers up, eyes drinking in the cozy stone and timber structure. Her lips form a ghost of a smile—the first I’ve seen since rescuing her.
A snapping branch whips my head around, senses flaring. I ease Anya aside, settling her gently on the front porch’s steps. She murmurs in confusion, not yet fully awake.
“Shh...” I soothe. “Rest here for a little while, my heart.” I ease her head down and rise slowly, every muscle coiled tight. My eyes scan the dark tree line intently, searching for the source of the noise. An owl calls mournfully in the distance. Otherwise, only the whisper of wind stirs the leaves, carrying no trace of unnatural sounds or scents.
Gradually, I begin to relax. Likely just a small creature foraging in the underbrush, setting my battle-honed instincts on high alert over nothing. I turn back to Anya, ready to gather her into my arms again.
That’s when I see it—the flecks of coarse fur snagged on the brambles, trails of massive pawprints in the muddy earth… Wolf shifters. But no members of my pack—currently laying siege under Enrico in Roan’s territory. These are hostile strangers crossing into my lands uninvited and with violent intent.
My lips peel back from lengthening teeth. A vicious snarl reverberates through my barrel chest as fur ripples to take the place of skin. No one threatens what is mine and lives.
As if in response to the murderous rage now pounding through me, Boris steps out of the shadows. I will rip his traitorous heart out with my teeth for threatening Anya. Soon, four hulking fighters fan out beside him.
