Page 35 of Guardians of the Assassins
He towered over the others by at least a foot, topping over nine feet. The scent of fire and brimstone still clung to him. It should repel her, but the smell called to something inside her. The massive wolf locked eyes with her, scanning her as if searching for fear, but she could only stare at him in awe.
He chuffed softly in amusement, his ears swiveling, his teeth flashing in a parody of a smile. She’d swear to the gods that he actually winked, and she couldn’t help but chuckle, charmed by his antics. One of the ferals began pacing and inched forward, a yearning in them to get near her, and the change in Caedmon was instantaneous.
Gone was the playfulness, his demeanor replaced by a monster who snarled savagely at the threat. The ferals whined and ducked their heads like the sound had hurt.
A bird dropped from the sky, swooping low over the ferals, his caw piercing. The hawk was mammoth, the dark shadow he cast ominous as he swept low to the ground. She almost suspected a shifter, but there was nothing remotely human in his intelligent citrine eyes.
Even before the bird veered back toward the skies, the ferals lost their shit.
It was like they were hit with a massive shock of adrenaline. Their eyes flashed, any calm they gained at her nearness faded, and they launched to their feet and charged with a ferocious snarl.
Caedmon and the werewolves didn’t hesitate to meet the challenge. Caedmon caught one wolf by the throat mid-leap. Though the feral snapped and clawed at him, he didn’t relent, drawing the beast closer, then he opened his mouth and let out a fierce roar that echoed eerily across the lake.
Whatever he did seemed to work. The feral went limp in his grip and blinked at him groggily. He tossed the now docile feral at Ryder, who remained in human form. He easily caught the enormous beast and subdued him, slipping a muzzle over the creature’s head to prevent him from snapping his teeth. He used the reins to hogtie his legs, leaving the feral immobile, securing the wolf in less than a minute. The familiarity with which he was able to do it was heart wrenching.
Five wolves had one of the ferals cornered. The creature snapped like a wild beast, but the wolves easily danced out of theway. When the feral would charge at one of them, other wolves would slam into his side, knocking him head over tail.
They would do it over and over again, until one of the werewolves leapt on top of the feral and pinned it to the ground and quickly bound it. He then picked up the wiggling feral and flung it over his shoulder with all the concern of a bag of sand.
When she took a step forward to help, Ascher caught her arm and shook his head. “You’ll just be a distraction.”
Draven came to a stop at her side, and Kincade gave them a nod, his skin hardening into stone, before he joined Ryder in the capture.
They managed to subdue four ferals when a sharp caw caught her attention. She jerked her head up to the sky just in time to see the large bird of prey swoop low once again, the five-foot wingspan more than a little ominous.
She very much feared if the hawk managed to give another order, the ferals would kill themselves in order to fulfill their mission.
Without hesitation, she lifted her arm. Fire tingled along her veins, the hunter’s moon symbol etched into her arm shimmering, then the ebony bow appeared in her grip an instant later. She drew back on the string, and a smoky black arrow flashed into existence.
She quickly took aim, then released the string.
The arrow shot true, flying through the air like a black streak, a smudge of smoke trailing behind it. Even as the bird veered away, it was too late, and the arrow hit its wing. A squawk of distress escaped the bird, feathers puffed in the air, and it plummeted to the ground. Despite the injury, the bird managed to regain flight before crashing into the earth, its wing flapping weakly as he disappeared into the trees.
She took a step to go after it, wanting to track it back to its master, when Draven stepped in her path. “Don’t. You can’t go after it on your own.”
“But—”
“The ferals are almost all captured.” Draven leaned in closer,the yummy chocolate goodness that was him distracting her. “We need to stick to the plan. We can’t dismiss that this is a trap to distract us and take you.”
Morgan rocked back on her feet, sagging in disappointment.
Because he was right.
As much as she wanted to catch the ones responsible, it was too dangerous to go off alone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KINCADE
The packs working together managed to catch two more wolves in less than five minutes. Morgan scanned the area, searching for the last wolf, a trickle of unease skating down her spine.
Like she was being watched.
Hunted.
A flash of movement from the corner of the cabin caught her attention, and she barely had time to whirl when a wolf charged directly at her, dirt kicking up under his massive paws. Just as his muscles bunched, ready to leap, Loki burst out from the tree line and slammed into the creature with enough force to send it crashing into the cabin.
Arthur leapt off the porch with an agility that belied his age, and she frowned in confusion, not sure how she could have forgotten about him so easily when he was standing right next to them.
