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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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.

pounding in frantic rhythm. The rush of blood overcomes all sound in the area, a

in my ears.

Nausea churns in my

flesh.

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

whooshes from my lungs as I hit the

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grasp. Stars explode across my vision before it

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

inches from

thrash and writhe, but his claws are like miniature

unyielding.

arm and lash

my mark, but it

with a snort, giving me

for the knife as he lunges

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

Fighting

Faster, damn it.

just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack. Flecks of spittle and foam coat

the 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 throat as he snaps at my arm, ripping skin as

other wolves are still involved in their own struggles several feet away. How many have set upon

I can’t worry

to deal with

mine like a fucking freight train. I stumble, gasping for air as

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting Back

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

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

a startled scream, and he’s on me again.

I have no

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

strangled whine escapes

his rancid breath. There’s no breath at