Tangled

<79 Ava: Fighting Back

79 Ava: Fighting Back

Todd’s wolf form prowls closer, his hackles bristling with menace. His eyes burn with a feral hunger that sends tremors through me. Anticipation hums in the

air between us.

The tree trunk is rough against my back as I use it for support, forcing my body to its feet. The cool weight of the pocketknife in my hand keeps me centered.

I will not cower.

The mysterious energy from before, that primal force filling my veins, is gone. It’s a fleeting whisper of the past, eluding my grasp no matter how desperately I

search for it.

All I have is my training and the small knife I’d stolen from home.

I flip open the blade with a flick of my thumb, the soft click lost amidst the snarls and growls of the ongoing battle around us. At least, I hope it’s lost. I know wolf hearing is keen, but I don’t know its limitations.

Todd’s lips peel back in a vicious snarl, revealing

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79 Ava: Fighting Back

yellowed canines. It figures that even his wolf’s teeth

would need some work. His breath had always smelled

like those tuna sandwiches he eats.

He lunges, a blur of ruddy fur and gnashing jaws.

Instinct has me diving to the side, scrabbling for purchase on the uneven ground. He whirls to face me as I roll to my knees, gripping the knife tightly as I swipe at his muzzle. The blade catches a superficial level of skin and fur, drawing a thin line of crimson that only seems to enrage him further.

the side, my heart pounding in frantic rhythm. The rush of blood overcomes all sound in the

my

churns

and flesh. A guttural yelp tears from his throat, but his momentum carries him forward,

of a large adult

from my lungs as

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Fighting Back

across my vision before it

rush. I’m pinned beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my shoulders with crushing force. His

stench, his muzzle inches from

writhe, but his claws are like miniature daggers digging into

unyielding.

free one arm and lash out blindly, my nails raking

hit my mark, but it

with a snort, giving me a

the side, scrambling for the knife as he lunges

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in the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of my blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest floor, a

Fighting Back

Faster, damn it.

I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut

ear, his neck. A guttural yelp rips from his throat as he snaps at my arm, ripping

involved in their own struggles several feet away. How many have set upon us? Too many to count. Did the entire pack make it here?

worry

have to deal

into mine like a fucking freight train. I stumble, gasping for air as his claws rake across my abdomen, tearing

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting Back

I can, wild jabs of my hand. I hit something, because blood coats my hilt and my grip

me to the ground with a wide movement of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my

scream, and he’s

to dodge. I have no time

face as I stab low and blind, grunting as his weight slams me into the ground beneath him. My fingers scrabble against the knife as I yank it

slick streaks of crimson. A strangled whine escapes his

longer suffocated by his rancid breath. There’s no breath at all. Only blood and earth.