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.

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

my ears.

face. Nausea churns in my belly, courtesy of his rancid breath.

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

me with all the force of a large adult wolf and an

from my lungs as I hit the ground,

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Fighting

across my vision before it

pressing down on my shoulders with crushing force. His hot breath

inches from my

are like miniature daggers digging into my skin,

unyielding.

to free one arm and lash out blindly, my nails raking across his muzzle and smacking against

mark, but it startles him.

rears back with a snort, giving me a moment of

roll to the side, scrambling for the knife

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the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of

Fighting

Faster, damn it.

the knife and whirl onto my back just as Todd crashes down where I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap

with a white–knuckled grip, I lash out wildly, the blade slicing a shallow gash across his ear, his neck. A guttural yelp rips from his throat as he snaps at my

in their own struggles several feet away. How many have

worry about them.

deal with Todd.

gasping for air as his claws rake across my abdomen, tearing

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting

I stab into anything I can, wild jabs of my hand. I hit something, because blood coats my hilt and my grip slips time and

of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my

back with a startled scream, and he’s on

position to dodge. I have no time to think.

ground beneath him. My fingers scrabble against the knife as I yank it out and stab again and again, even as he snaps and bites

violently, his blood coating my hands in slick streaks of crimson. A strangled whine escapes his muzzle before he finally goes

no longer suffocated by his rancid breath. There’s