Page 20 of Beast of Blood and Roses
“No,mademoiselle!” Marcel’s voice rang out behind me, sharp with panic. “It’s dangerous out there!”
I ignored him, terror driving me forward. My lungs burned, but I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. He might come after me. The beast might?—
Go... Go... Go.
The mantra pounded through my skull in rhythm with my racing heart. Adrenaline flooded my system, making everything hyperreal—the humid air stinging my throat, the Spanish moss brushing my face like ghostly fingers, the squelch of marshy ground beneath my shoes.
The bayou loomed ahead. A hundred yards. Fifty. Twenty.
Three feet away...two feet away...one foot away.
I plunged into the shadowy water without hesitation, branches tearing at my clothes. Better to take my chances with alligators and snakes than face that rage again. The memory of splintering wood and blazing emerald eyes spurred me deeper into the maze of cypress trees.
I rounded a massive oak draped in Spanish moss like a funeral shroud and slammed straight into a wall of black fur. I gasped and jerked backward so violently I nearly fell, adrenaline flooding my system.
The wolf’s growl rumbled through my bones, so deep it seemed to come from the earth itself. My breath caught in my throat as I stumbled backward, only to realize the shadows around me were moving.
Oh god.
I spun in a frantic circle. They emerged from behind every tree, every tangle of roots, massive shapes that made my legs turn to water. These weren’t wolves. They were the size of black bears, with yellow eyes that gleamed like lanterns in the twilight. Their lips pulled back to reveal fangs that could crush bone.
I was trapped.
I broke a thick branch off the oak tree and swung it wildly at the black wolf stalking toward me. The makeshift weapon connected with its snout with a satisfying crack.
Big mistake.
The wolf’s lips peeled back in a snarl that made my blood freeze. Its ears flattened against its massive skull, and those yellow eyes blazed with predatory fury. Every muscle in its powerful frame coiled as it crouched low, preparing to spring.
I raised the branch above my head with trembling hands, trying to make myself look bigger, more threatening. But weboth knew the truth. I was prey, and it was the apex predator. My pathetic stick wouldn’t save me from jaws that could snap my spine in half.
This was it. I was about to become doggy chow for a pack of supernatural wolves in the middle of a Louisiana bayou.
What a way to go.
The wolf lunged.
I screamed and crashed backward onto the muddy ground, my stick flying from my grip. That bone-crushing maw snapped inches from my throat, so close I could feel the heat of its breath and see strings of saliva dripping from yellow fangs. My entire life flashed before my eyes in a desperate slideshow of regret. I wasn’t going to die like this.
Not here.
Not now.
Move. Move. Move.
I rolled frantically to the side, but the beast was faster. Its massive paw slammed down on my back, pinning me face-down in the mud. No, no, no! I clawed at the earth, gasping for air as the weight crushed down on me, trapping me like prey beneath a predator’s hold.
Razor-sharp claws tore through my shirt and bit deep into my skin. Fire erupted across my shoulders as warm blood soaked through the fabric. This was it. I was going to die here, torn apart in this godforsaken swamp. Terror flooded my system as I realized how easily those claws could slice through bone, how quickly this monster could end me.
A chorus of yelps suddenly exploded around us. My heart lurched with desperate hope—were there people nearby? Other creatures? I tried to scream for help, but only a strangled whimper escaped my mud-caked lips.
I managed to twist around frantically, mud smearing my face as I fought to see what was happening. Something huge crashed into the black wolf with bone-jarring force, sending it flying into the oak tree with a sickening thud. The beast towered over me, his fur bristling with rage as he snarled at the circling pack. Was he here to help me or kill me?
Ignoring the burning agony across my shoulders, I scrambled to my feet and snatched up my fallen branch. My hands, slicked with my own blood, trembled.
Three wolves attacked him at once; a coordinated assault that made my heart stop. One lunged for his throat, another seized his leg in crushing jaws, and the third leaped onto his back, claws raking deep furrows through his fur. The beast’s howl of pain and fury shook the bayou. The raw anguish in that sound made my chest tighten with unexpected sympathy even as terror kept me frozen.
He twisted and swiped at the wolf on his leg, his claws ripping through flesh like paper. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, painting the moss-draped trees. He clamped his razor-sharp teeth around the wolf attacking his neck and flung it aside with bone-crushing force. The wolf lay motionless, either dead or stunned.
