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.

deafening snarl rips from his throat and I dash to the side, my heart pounding in frantic rhythm. The rush of blood overcomes

in my ears.

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

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

force of a large adult wolf and an entire lifetime

my lungs as I

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Fighting Back

from my grasp. Stars explode across my vision before

all comes back in a rush. I’m pinned beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my shoulders

muzzle inches from my

thrash and writhe, but his claws are like miniature daggers digging into my skin, immovable

unyielding.

one arm and lash out blindly, my

mark, but it

snort, giving me a moment

the side, scrambling for the knife as

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my fingers scrabble for the knife, its silver blade glinting in the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of my

Fighting

Faster, damn it.

lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack.

wildly, the blade slicing a shallow gash across his ear, his neck. A guttural yelp rips from his throat as

feet away. How many have set upon us? Too many to count. Did the entire pack make

worry about them.

deal with

his body slamming into mine like a fucking freight train. I stumble, gasping for air as

Agony.

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Fighting

jabs of my hand. I hit something,

wide movement of his head and

back with a startled scream, and he’s on me

no position to dodge. I have no time to think.

raise an arm to protect my 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 out and stab again and again,

of crimson. A strangled whine escapes his muzzle

gasp for air, no longer suffocated by his rancid breath.