It was him—The male who’d chased me through the woods, cut my shirt off, teased me with my knife…
And murdered my cousin while I watched from the bushes.
He placed himself between the black wolf and my ax, protecting her. Were they mates? I don’t know why that angered me more. His vicious flirting hadn’t been genuine. He’d just been playing with his food. That’s all I was to him. A meal, just like the other sacrifices.
Not this time. Not with this rabbit.
“Don’t fear, Little Rabbit. Your blood will make my pup strong,” the beast rasped.
“I don’t think so, motherfucker,” I snarled back.
The silver werewolf laughed, the sound so deep and jarring it rattled me to the bone. “You’re a bold one. The other sacrifices aren’t so mouthy.”
“We should give her to Carver,” the black she-wolf mused from behind her mate. “He likes the sassy ones. Like the purple-haired girl from last year. Called her tasty.”
The purple-haired girl from last year? A chill washed over me. Sarah had purple hair. The same color that I streaked my hair with—a silly little way I liked to remember her.
The wolf that killed Sarah was named Carver. If I lived through this night, I’d remember that name.
The silver wolf pounced. He was heavy, and with my angle and reflexes, his weight was his downfall. I didn’t even have to swing. All I had to do was raise the ax at the right moment and hold it where his throat would land.
A shockwave of pain jolted down my arms at the impact. A warm flood of blood coated my arms. I rolled out from beneath him just in time to avoid being crushed. I placed my foot on his body, using it as leverage to wrench the ax free.
Blood spurted from the gash in his neck to the rhythm of his heartbeat. It was slowing down.
Pure anger drove me as I lifted the ax and brought it down hard on his thick neck, again and again, until I’d separated the beast’s massive head from his body.
The dark-furred wolf shifted into a gorgeous, curvy woman with a thick mane of dark curly hair. She stumbled to her knees, taking the wolf’s great head in her arms. “Casey! Oh god, no. Casey!”
If I lived through this night, the woman’s horrified shriek would haunt me for the rest of my days.
Blood pooled underneath her dead mate, and I was amazed by how much was in him.
Clutching his severed head to her chest, she lifted her face, her tear-swollen cheeks glistening in the moonlight. Our eyes locked.
There was no anger in her expression, only despair. It was almost like she was pleading with me to kill her, too. My gaze drifted down to her naked, swollen belly. Something akin to humanity jerked me from my rage and I turned on my heel, bolting into the dark.
After an unknown stretch of time spent wandering the woods, I found the road again. I could almost cry from the relief. So long as I followed it, I’d find something. Ideally, the way out.
My heart fell when a cabin appeared ahead. It wasn’t the main road leading back to town, but at least it was something.
This was still pack property, so I had to be careful.
Cautiously, I tip-toed up the porch and peered inside. The place was dark. There was no car parked out front. No fresh scent clung to the door. No one was home.
Normally, I wouldn’t barge into a cabin that was, in all likelihood, owned by a werewolf, but desperation made me bold. Or stupid. I’d figure out which once I was inside.
I tried the front door and found it unlocked. I pushed inside and went rigid the moment the scent hit me. Tanned leather and pine, with the faintest hint of cigarette smoke.
I recognized that scent... I’d stumbled right into the home of the silver wolf.
It was almost too perfect. He was dead. He wasn’t going to be coming home. But what about his mate?
I took in a deep breath, my brows pulling together in confusion. There was no trace of another’s scent. The cabin was small, decorated sparsely, with no sign of a female’s touch. Maybe his mate lived back at the main pack house?
Then again, I didn’t detect his scent on her skin, so maybe they weren’t even bonded mates.
But… the way she’d cried for him...
