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

in my

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

the knife again, the blade slicing through fur and flesh. A guttural yelp tears

with all the force of a large adult wolf

lungs as I

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Ava: Fighting Back

across my vision before it fades, just for a moment.

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

muzzle inches from my face.

but his claws are like miniature daggers digging into

unyielding.

lash out blindly, my nails raking across his muzzle and

my mark, but it

rears back with a snort, giving me a moment of opportunity.

side, scrambling for the

the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to

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

Ava: Fighting Back

Faster, damn it.

I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack.

knife 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

No other weapons. The other wolves are still involved in their own struggles several feet away. How many have set upon us? Too many to count.

worry

deal

gasping

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting

against the pain, I stab into anything I can, wild jabs of my hand. I hit something, because blood coats

movement of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my heel catching on a gnarled

back with a startled scream,

I

fingers scrabble against

in slick streaks of crimson. A strangled whine escapes his muzzle before he finally goes limp, his

by his rancid breath. There’s no breath at