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.

my heart pounding in frantic

my

snap 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

the force of a large adult wolf and an

my lungs as I hit the ground, the

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Ava: Fighting

across my vision before it fades, just for a

pressing down on my shoulders with crushing force. His

muzzle inches from my face.

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

unyielding.

to free one arm and lash out blindly, my nails

mark,

giving me a moment

for the

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get in my way as my fingers scrabble for the knife, its silver blade glinting in the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of my blood mingles with the

Fighting

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

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

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

can’t worry about them.

have to deal with Todd.

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

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting Back

stab into anything I can, wild jabs of my hand.

to the ground with a wide movement of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my heel catching on a gnarled root.

scream,

position to dodge. I have

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

his blood coating my hands in slick streaks of crimson. A strangled whine escapes

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