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.

throat and I dash to the side, my heart pounding in frantic

in my

inches from my face. Nausea churns in my

through fur and flesh. A guttural yelp tears from

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

as I hit the ground, the

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Fighting

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

I’m pinned beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my

stench, his muzzle inches from my

his claws are like

unyielding.

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

don’t hit my mark, but

back with a snort, giving me a

roll to the side, scrambling for the knife as he lunges

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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 earthy

Ava: Fighting

Faster, damn it.

Todd crashes down where I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap

shallow gash across his ear, his neck. A guttural yelp

own struggles several feet away.

I can’t worry

to deal with Todd.

stumble, gasping

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting Back

I stab into anything I can, wild jabs of my hand. I hit something, because blood coats my hilt and my grip slips time

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

back with a startled scream, and he’s on

to dodge. I

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

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

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