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.

his throat and I dash to the side, my heart pounding in frantic rhythm. The rush

in my

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

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

large adult wolf and an

as I hit the ground,

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Ava: Fighting Back

from my grasp. Stars explode across my vision before it

pressing down on my shoulders with crushing

stench, his muzzle inches from my

his claws are like miniature daggers digging into my

unyielding.

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

my mark, but it startles

rears back with a snort, giving me a

scrambling for

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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 earthy aroma of the forest floor, a sickly

Fighting Back

Faster, damn it.

where I’d been lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack. Flecks of spittle and foam

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

escape route. 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. Did the entire

I can’t worry about them.

deal

I stumble, gasping for air as his

Agony.

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Fighting Back

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

the ground with a wide movement of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my heel

with a startled scream, and he’s on me

dodge. I have no time

blind, grunting as his weight slams me into the ground beneath him. My fingers scrabble against the knife as I yank it out and

A strangled whine escapes his muzzle before he finally goes limp, his full weight

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