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.

in my

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

flesh. A guttural yelp tears from his throat, but his

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

as I hit the

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Ava: Fighting Back

clattering from my grasp. Stars explode across my

beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my shoulders with

stench, his muzzle inches from

thrash and writhe, but his claws are like miniature

unyielding.

and lash out blindly, my nails

mark, but it startles

snort, giving me a moment of

side, scrambling for the knife as he

again. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of

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 tang that pushes me to move

Ava: Fighting Back

Faster, damn it.

been lying just moments

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 arm, ripping skin as I dash backward, scrambling to my

weapons. The other wolves are still involved in their own struggles several feet away. How many have set upon us? Too

worry about them.

deal with

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

Agony.

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Fighting Back

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

and

with a startled scream, and he’s on

I have

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

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

his rancid breath. There’s no