“Might as well get this started,” Noah growled leaping on the attack.
* * *
Phoebe darted through the woods pausing when she heard the rogue’s howls change and she knew they had found the warriors. She bit her lip. If only she could have given them more information.
Máni’s connection to the territory was stronger than most others and often sensed intrusions before even their elite warriors. Not only that but she could usually estimate the size of the opposing force with relative accuracy. But the pack’s borders had deteriorated making it difficult for even Máni to sense the encroaching danger.
‘They’ll be fine,’ Máni said. ‘They are trained fighters.’
‘They aren’t immortal.’
‘…’
‘Maybe we should have stayed to help. You’re a good fighter.’
‘And what were we going to do with the pup? Fight with it in our teeth?’
Phoebe grimaced, holding Jack close. She could have given him to one of the older girls but carrying the extra burden would have slowed them considerably. In all their drills it worked best for Phoebe to carry the pup.
‘Do you know how many of them there are?’
‘More than five. Maybe ten?’
“Ah!”
Phoebe stumbled to a stop at the pained cry. She was within a half mile of the wood’s border with a clear path to the packhouse but she could hardly ignore the call for help. Turning left she plunged toward the sound.
* * *
“Oww! It hurts Blake!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you out!”
Blake crouched down pulling on the edge of the rotten log entrapping his sister. Emma whimpered tugging at the wood as well but her foot was hopelessly stuck. It had been so long since they came this way they had forgotten the placement of the traps and almost stumbled into one. To avoid it she had leapt to the side and ended up in another kind of trap. Blake grunted trying to pry away the log but he didn’t have the strength to widen the opening.
“Blake, you’re too little,” Emma said wounding his pride. He was the big brother.
“Blake! Emma!” Phoebe exclaimed as she reached them.
“Miss Phoebe!”
“What are you doing here!” Phoebe handed Jack to Blake who struggled to hold the pup as he watched her seize the log. Phoebe pried apart the rotten edges breaking the hole wider and freeing Emma’s foot with ease. Checking the pup for injuries she said, “You two are supposed to head directly to the packhouse, you know that.”
“But if we go there Luna Kristie won’t let us into the safe room,” Emma said. “That’s why we were going to your house.”
Phoebe frowned. Like all werewolf homes her parents built theirs with a hidden safe room in case of sudden rogue attacks. The entrance was a trap door hidden in the pups’ closet. As with all drills Phoebe had taught them how to open the hidden door and secure once inside. In some ways it was actually more secure than the packhouse room which was neither hidden nor secret.
“My house is three more miles away. You know you need to go to the nearest safe point.”
“But Luna Kristie…”
“Luna Kristie would let you in with me,” Phoebe said. “I was right behind you.”
The pups fell silent. That was true. Despite the difference in status Kristie could never contradict Phoebe when she made her decisions. On the other hand Phoebe had no difficulty in defying Kristie’s orders when she chose to. Perhaps that was why they didn’t get along.
Helping Emma to her feet they suddenly froze as a rogue came crashing through the undergrowth and stumbled to a halt. Its glaze eyes settled on them. Phoebe pushed Emma behind her as she stared at the hesitating rogue.
‘Where did it come from?’
‘Must have slunk off when the others faced those guards,’ Máni answered. Though they didn’t share a direct link to either Cam or Noah they had spent enough time with them to establish a temporary bond. Through it Máni could sense the warriors were very much alive and still fighting though they couldn’t mindlink them.
“Blake, take Jack and Emma and run to the packhouse, now.”
“But Miss Phoebe…”
“Now Blake! Run!”
Awkwardly clutching the two-year-old Blake grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her into the woods in the direction of the packhouse. The rogue growled its gaze following the retreating bodies.
“Hey! Don’t look at them! Look at me!” Phoebe demanded raising her hands to catch the rogue’s attention again. The rogue’s gaze snapped back to her.
‘Good. Now what?’
Máni could handle the rogue but it was not without danger. And how would she explain what happened when she was supposed to be wolfless? Stay and fight or run?
‘We can’t let this one near the kids.’
‘West,’ Máni suggested. ‘I sense our Mate there.’
Phoebe shivered at the thought of the mate they only met yesterday. After one meal she felt so at ease with him, so much so she agreed to let him spend the night. All night long he held her and for once she felt perfectly safe. She couldn’t recall a night she slept half so well. Even now his scent lingered on her clothes.
The rogue in front of her snarled, readying for the attack. Phoebe’s eyes shimmered silver as she waited. Not until the wolf sprung forward did she bolt to her left running west. No longer burdened with the two-year-old Phoebe was much faster as she weaved through the trees. Her sharpened gaze picked out the gleam of traps with ease. She had run these woods many times and knew where they were located.
A thought occurred to her and she started cutting closer to the traps skirting them by inches hoping to catch her pursuer off-guard. Yet the rogue kept pace its feet narrowly avoiding the traps it couldn’t see in its eagerness to catch its prey. Cutting around a tree Phoebe was finally rewarded with the sound she wanted: a sharp metal snap followed by a piercing yelp.
Phoebe skidded to a stop catching her breath as she turned. There the rogue lay on its side stunned for a moment before it struggled to its feet. The chain clanked noisily as it pulled at the trap firmly clamped on its leg. It whimpered as the silver burned and festered in its wounds, slowly leeching into its bloodstream. So in pain it seemingly forgot all about Phoebe as it struggled.
Phoebe winced as it bit at its leg and twisted trying to shake it free. It growled and whimpered as it struggled, its glazed eyes finally settling on her. Phoebe stepped back as it snarled baring rotting teeth.
The silver would eventually kill it but it would be a painful death and would take hours unless it managed to bite off its leg. It would probably still die. The thought of anything suffering so much pain was intolerable and she couldn’t simply leave. Even if it was a rogue it deserved the dignity of a quick death.
“Easy,” Phoebe said slowly approaching.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply