The footprints were fresh, her little sneaker treads clear in the soft earth. She couldn’t have gotten far. She was only four. Just four years old and heading into woods where beasts lived and hunters set traps and a million things could go wrong.
I hit the tree line at a dead run, following her trail. “Thea, baby, please answer Mama!”
There. A flash of pink shirt between the trees.
“There you are!” Relief flooded through me as I spotted her small form just inside the forest edge, arms outstretched toward the darker woods beyond.
But instead of running to me, she squeaked playfully and darted deeper into the trees. “Catch me, Mama!”
“This is not a game!” My voice cracked with terror as I crashed after her. “Thea, stop right now!”
She giggled, weaving between trees with surprising agility. This wasn’t the place for hide and seek. This was where monsters lived, where my parents had died, where everything dangerous in Pine Valley originated.
I caught her twenty yards in, scooping her into my arms as she squealed with delight. She struggled against my grip, still thinking this was hilarious.
“You found me, Mama! But let’s wait, I hear them!” Her face was bright with excitement. “Maybe we’ll get to see a real wolf, Mama! A real one!”
I clutched her tighter, already backing toward safety, toward civilization, toward anywhere but here. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break through my chest.
That’s when the howl came, long and definitely real. It echoed through the trees, closer than any wolf should be to town. Closer than anything should be to my baby.
Thea went completely still in my arms, all playfulness evaporating. Her little body trembled.
“That doesn’t sound nice, Mama,” she whispered, pressing her face into my neck. I ran. Flat out sprinted toward the shop, toward safety, toward-
A massive shape exploded from the underbrush directly in front of us.
14
— • —
Lina
The massive shape that burst from the underbrush wasn’t a bear. Wasn’t a normal wolf. It was the thing from my nightmares, the monster that had destroyed my shop five years ago, except somehow worse.
Gray fur hung in patches from its massive frame, revealing raw, infected skin beneath. Foam dripped from jaws that could swallow Thea whole. Its eyes rolled wild with madness, focused entirely on my daughter with the single-minded intensity of a rabid animal that had found prey.
I didn’t think, didn’t calculate odds or consider options. I put Thea on the ground and shoved her behind me, spreading my arms wide to make myself as large a target as possible.
“NO! STAY BACK!” The scream tore from my throat, raw with desperation.
The wolf didn’t hesitate. It lunged with speed that shouldn’t have been possible for its size, crossing the space between us in a heartbeat.
I spun around, covering Thea completely with my body. If this thing wanted my baby, it would have to go through me first. Literally.
The impact knocked me forward, but I locked my arms around Thea, becoming a human shield. Then the teeth came.
Pain exploded through my shoulder as fangs punched through skin into muscle. The wolf’s jaws clamped down, grinding against bone with a sound I felt more than heard. Hot breath on my neck. The stench of rot flooding my nostrils. Blood running warm down my back.
The wolf shook its head violently, trying to dislodge me, to get to the prize beneath. Each movement sent fresh agony through my shoulder, tore muscle, scraped against nerves. I bit through my own lip to keep from screaming, tasting copper.
But I held on. Thea’s terrified shrieks pierced through the pain, anchoring me. My baby needed me. That was all that mattered.
“Mama! Mama!” Thea sobbed against my chest, little hands clutching my shirt.
The wolf released my shoulder only to bite down again, finding a fresh spot. This time I couldn’t hold back the scream. It echoed through the trees, the sound of an animal protecting its young.
My vision started to gray at the edges. Blood loss or shock, probably both. The wolf’s weight pressed down, crushing us intothe forest floor. Pine needles stuck to my face, mixed with tears I hadn’t realized I was crying.
