Up close, I can see the breadth of its jaw, the wet shine along its teeth. Its breath hits my face—hot, copper and pine.
“Easy,” I say through clenched teeth, though it’s not clear who I’m talking to.
It growls low in its chest and lunges again.
I twist sideways, trying to bring the spray up between us, but the porch edge limits my footing. The wolf’s weight slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
The canister slips.
I catch it against my hip and shove upward, spraying directly into its face at close range.
The wolf snarls but doesn’t retreat.
It rears back for another strike.
The railing behind me gives another inch under pressure.
For a split second, I register how close its teeth are—how easily it could close that space.
The wolf lunges.
And this time, there’s nowhere left to move.
The wolf hits me hard enough to rattle my teeth.
Claws rake across my shoulder, shredding fabric and skin in the same motion. The impact drives me sideways into the porch railing, wood biting into my back as the air punches out of my lungs. The bear spray flies from my hand and skitters across the boards.
I drag in a shallow breath that doesn’t quite fill my chest.
“Damn it?—”
The wolf advances.
Up close it smells like wet fur and copper. Its head lowers, muscles bunching along its shoulders as it prepares to finish what it started. There’s nowhere left to move, nowhere left to brace. The railing presses into my spine, cracked and splintering behind me.
My pulse hammers high and fast.
“Easy,” I rasp, though the word has no weight behind it.
The wolf lunges.
Something slams into it from the side with bone-shattering force.
The impact throws both animals off the porch in a violent tangle of fur and teeth. I blink hard, vision swimming, just in time to see a second wolf drive the first into the gravel.
This one is bigger.
Massive, coal-black, the kind of size that doesn’t exist in any field guide I’ve ever studied. A stark white streak cuts across its chest, flashing as it twists and snaps. Its shoulders are broad and heavy, movement precise and brutally efficient.
The two wolves collide again, jaws clamping, bodies slamming hard enough to rattle the cabin walls.
I push upright against the railing, breath still uneven.
“Okay,” I manage under my breath. “Okay…”
The black wolf moves differently.
Not frenzied. Not wild. Every strike is controlled, deliberate. It drives forward with crushing weight, teeth flashing as itcatches the attacking wolf across the shoulder. The other animal snarls and twists free, snapping back hard enough to draw blood along the black wolf’s flank.
