Page 85 of Taken By The Wolves
I nod, giving him space to find the words.
“When Goldie was in labor, she almost died. We were forced to enhance our bond, to give her our life force, but in doing so, we linked ourselves and our lives for good. If one of us dies, we all die.”
I blink, stunned. I didn’t even know that was a possibility. Maybe it’s a solution for bears.
“So, you’re worried about fighting?”
“I love fighting, Nixon. But I have two cubs and a pregnant mate. I can’t risk all our lives in the thick of battle. You have to understand that this goes against who I am and what I want to be as an alpha.”
“I do.”
“Me and my brothers… we’ll stay at the cabin to protect the women. Leave Reed with us. We can’t risk our mates being harmed. It’s the most we can do.”
“Yes,” I say. “I understand. And I’m thankful for your support, Hunter. You didn’t have to bring your family into this… especially under the circumstances.”
“You have enough of a force to defeat Gregory. You will win this fight.”
“Goddess willing.”
We stand for a while longer, the night tight around us.
No fires are lit.
No songs are sung.
We wait.
And in the distance, rising with the mist and darkness, a scream echoes, cutting the silence like a blade.
42
FINN
We smell them before we see them; the rot of unwashed bodies and the sick-slick stench of adrenaline, blood, and hunger. It coats the air like a fog, tightening in our lungs, warning of what’s coming.
I hunch lower, shifting entirely now, bones stretching and snapping as fur ripples across my skin. Pain flickers through me, but I welcome it. It sharpens my focus, floods my system with clarity. All around me, others shift in tandem, a chorus of guttural groans and growls, until the forest floor is bristling with muscle and claw, our combined forms coiling into a crescent formation. Wolves and bears together, a terrifying half-moon of fangs and fury designed to trap Gregory’s rabid pack inside.
To end this.
Once and for all.
Nixon is already charging forward in his wolf form, his fur that distinctive silver-gray that flashes like lightning through the trees. Every movement he makes is calculated.Beside him, Connor barrels forward as a monstrous brown bear, slower but brutal. You don’t need speed when you’re that unstoppable.
I snap my jaw shut as the first of Gregory’s pack bursts through the underbrush.
A black-furred wolf lunges straight for me. I twist, dragging my claws along his flank before biting hard into his shoulder. The tang of blood fills my mouth as he howls and stumbles, but another takes his place instantly. Teeth clash. Fur flies. I duck under a sweeping paw and sink my fangs into his exposed belly. He whimpers, lurches backward, and I pounce, driving him to the dirt with my full weight.
Pain sears along my side. A red-furred wolf has latched onto my ribcage, his teeth deep. I howl, slam my body into his, then roll until his grip loosens. I manage to claw his face and push away. I’m bleeding, but I can still run… Still fight.
Another wolf comes from the side, reeking of rot. He growls and tries to crush me with his weight. I dodge too late, and his claws rake my thigh, a white-hot agony exploding through my leg. I go down hard, roll, and come up snapping. I bite his forearm and twist, hearing the crunch of bone before he slams me into a tree.
The air whooshes from my lungs. My vision flickers. But then Grizzly, Connor’s second in command, is there, plowing into the wolf and dragging him away, slamming his skull into the trunk until he collapses in a broken heap.
I pull myself upright, panting, blood running in rivulets along my side and leg, sticky and hot. But I’m still standing.
We push them backward. Inch by inch, we drive Gregory’s pack deeper into the trap, toward the center where Nixon and Grizzly, Dad and Connor are waiting to crush them. Bodies fall. Limbs are torn. Blood darkens theforest floor.
But Gregory isn’t here.
