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.

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

my

shut inches from my face. Nausea churns in my belly, courtesy of his

again, the blade slicing through fur and flesh. A guttural yelp tears from his throat, but his momentum carries

the force of a large adult wolf and an

lungs as I hit

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Ava: Fighting Back

from my grasp. Stars explode across my vision before it fades, just for

in a rush. I’m pinned beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my shoulders with crushing force. His hot breath washes over me in waves of

inches from my

claws are like miniature daggers digging into my skin, immovable and

unyielding.

a burst of adrenaline–fueled strength, I manage to free one arm and lash out blindly, my nails raking across his muzzle and smacking against one eye.

my mark, but

a snort, giving me

for the

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my fingers scrabble for the knife, its silver blade glinting in the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of my blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest floor, a sickly metallic

Ava: Fighting Back

Faster, damn it.

down where I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack. Flecks of spittle and foam coat my cheeks.

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 arm, ripping skin as I dash backward,

in their own struggles several feet away. How many have set upon us? Too

worry

have to deal

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

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting

hand. I hit something, because blood coats my hilt and my

head and upper body somehow and I backpedal,

sprawl back with a startled scream, and

to dodge. I have no time to think.

ground beneath him. My fingers scrabble against the knife as I yank it out

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

rancid breath. There’s no