Chapter 30
Tripp’s mouth drops open. He steps away from the group and walks our way.
“Boss, we found her in the woods behind the fire,” Mike says.
“Go help the others with the fire. We don’t need this whole place burning down.”
They shift and head toward the blaze now behind me.
Confusion paints his face. “Aly? What are you doing here?”
“I was coming back, but I couldn’t remember the turn and got stuck.” I reach my hand out to the one holding his rifle.
“By pure coincidence, you happened to be behind the explosion?” His confusion changes to one of focus and his arm reaches out to grab my hand. He turns it over, his eyes scanning, but there’s nothing to find.
“I heard the loud bangs. My shoulder got hit so I started running from it.”
“Why are you back? Your letter . . .”
Guilt flutters in me at the sadness coming off him. I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t think it was for me.”
Yelling comes from beside us as a siren fills the air.
“Tripp,” someone says, bolting past us.
“Give me a minute,” he says.
“Now,” they snap.
“Aly, you’re sticking beside me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I want to hear the rest of your story.”
He turns, and I keep in stride beside him. We walk over to the man who yelled his name. “There were gunshots on the north side. The fire’s drowning them out. Might want to check it out. That’s why we started the siren,” he says.
My heart thumps against my chest.
He swings his rifle forward and takes off. Tripp is right beside him, and I have no choice but to run through the camp after them. I need to see what’s going on.
The second we’re away from the fire, three more shots go off. A howl sends ripples through the air. No.
Where is he?
I run until we get to the edge of the camp.
Tripp halts and puts out his arm, colliding with my ribcage. He lifts his gun and brings the rim of the scope to his eye, then lowers it again and turns back toward me. “I’ll keep you safe.” He brushes my cheek and I flinch as a huge man covered in white camo comes up behind us.
“Tripp, we’re surrounded.” Finley says, close enough now for me to see his face.
“Where’s Hudson?”
“Out there.” He points off to the left as another shot goes off.
“Stay right behind me.” Tripp raises his gun and starts to walk.
We move further out into the forest as a set of howls breaks out into the air.
Now.
I got the little human.
I turn to see six wolves charge a hundred feet away from us. A shriek rises in the air, then another.
Tripp moves his gun to the side, while I put both hands up to his back and push. “Aly, careful,” he says resetting his position.
I hear screaming near us as armed humans run over. Tripp sends off four shots.
A body flies into the trees to the left. I need to help. Two humans come up from behind us, guns firing. One drops a magazine and pulls another from their pocket. It snaps in with a click. I cover my ears again.
Tripp starts walking further out into the forest, and the others walk with us.
“Aly, hurry up.” Tripp looks at me over his shoulder, and I pick up my pace.
Three wolves are up ahead, but I can’t tell who they are. Tripp stalks closer, and they run off to the side, turning into blurs. I hear a yip.
“Got one,” someone yells. My stomach sinks.
Finley next to us fires off a spray of rounds to the right. I press my hands to my ears. “Fuck, I’m almost out.” He digs in his pockets. Good.
“Men!” Tripp shouts. “Spread out more. We need to cover more ground. Save the rounds for when you have a shot.”
They all fan into different directions. Tripp drops his hand and reaches for mine. I tighten my grip. He can’t shoot with one arm. We walk another fifty feet forward, where Tripp stops and bends down. “I need my hand, Aly. When this is over, we’ll have all the time.”
Hurry up.
Two on the left.
I glance over, and so does Tripp. Seven wolves pound through the forest, one a bit further behind.
They take out a gunned man on the way, ripping him apart with their teeth.
Another gets thrown high into the air; their screams are drowned out by gunfire.
Tripp pulls the trigger, and the one far behind drops down while the rest keep charging by.
I stand and start moving toward the one he hit. I need to know who it is. Tripp sends another shot in their direction.
“Don’t move.” Tripp plants his feet, scanning the area with his gun.
Tingles brush my skin as a huge blur forms off to the right far in the distance.
“I got him.” Tripp lines up his sight and pulls the trigger. It misses as the blur dives left, and he watches through the scope.
The sensations flood my skin. Stark.
I’m coming, Hudry, Stark thinks. Don’t get up.
I can’t breathe. Hudry’s thought comes through.
He must have been the seventh. No . . . Stark can’t come here.
Tripp keeps his gun turned toward where Hudry is down.
Heat fires in my limbs as the internal smoke I’ve spent all day fighting swirls through me from my feet to my lungs. Let it.
The blur gets closer.
Tripp won’t miss.
“I finally get to kill the beast,” he whispers as he pulls in a breath and snugs his gun up against his chest, crouched down.
Stark’s getting too close.
I draw back from Tripp. There’s no other way.
Stark’s blur is seconds away. I release the hold on my magic. My body lets go as I turn. Letting the red wolf inside take over.
Tripp’s gun goes off.
It’s too late.
Stark, I yell to his mind.
Fuck. Stark’s pained thoughts course through me.
Tripp turns to me, but all I see is red. He hurt the only one who matters. The only reason I want to breathe anymore.
He swings his gun at me, and I let out a deafening growl before opening my jaw and ripping him into two.
Blood coats my tongue as I drop his lifeless body onto the ground.
I pick up the pace and run over to where Stark limps to Hudry. His beige wolf frame is sprawled out, spotted with blood.
Stark wheels toward me, a low growl rumbling from his chest, hackles raised. He doesn’t know it’s me—that’s a good thing. I slow, ears flat, and creep closer.
Let me help.
I use my mouth to lift Hudry and place his limp body over Stark’s neck.
Take him.
Blood pools on the ground beneath Stark’s black leg, but I block it from my mind. It’s not the time.
Who—?
Move, I send to him.
Two more shots come whizzing by our heads. There’s no time.
I run back toward the bullets, remembering what I read in the book just days ago.
To run with intense speed, you need to look beyond where you believe your vision can go. Your legs will catch up.
I zone in on two gunmen. Fire burns through my legs, and in seconds, I’m over top of them.
I pick one up and fling him as high as I can.
A shriek comes from up in the trees. The other, I rip apart in one bite.
I keep on—five more. Until I find the one I’m looking for—Hudson.
He’s surrounded by six men. A coward. I blur by and take one out.
Turns out, you just need to have adrenaline and need. I’ll add that to the lines of that book on speed.
Five wolves come out of the far end of the forest and take out two gunmen.
Shots become a constant ringing in my ears.
I run past them, back in the direction of Hudson’s huddle, and stop right in front of them.
I swipe away the men in front, crushing them into the ground before they get a chance to take me in.
Hudson raises his gun at me, and I let a roaring growl rip through me.
“There aren’t red beasts.” His arms shake.
Without giving him a chance to shoot me, I bare my teeth and shred his torso. He collapses onto the ground, and I take off again. When I put some distance between myself and the remaining humans, I stop to breathe.
Are you okay? I send out to Stark. I need to know. I can’t see him, but the tingles edge my fur.
Yes.
I breathe in and go on another round. A few shots ring out past my head, and I pick a destination, moving faster than I’ve ever imagined.
When I reach the gunman, my long legs lock.
Gretch’s hands shake on the gun. She lifts it up toward me and tilts her head as she focuses.
I lift my left paw up and limp toward her with a blink.
Can you hear me? I try to connect to her human mind. She will have to shoot, but I can’t kill my friend.
“No . . .” she says. “Aly?”
I nod.
“You’re a . . . a . . . beast?”
I prefer the term werewolf. I have no idea if she can hear me.
I take two steps back and lower my snout to the ground.
She stands, her grip faltering. I watch her eyes as she looks behind her, then inches forward.
I twist my ears toward the gun, and she lifts the shoulder strap over her arms. The gun falls to the ground, then her foot stomps on it and her shaking hand sticks out.
I move closer. She touches the side of my face, running her hand through my fur. I close my eyes.
Another shot rings out. Agony explodes through my shoulder, right next to where I was hit before.
“Aly, I’m sorry.” Her head leaves my shoulder as she turns and runs in the other direction.
I let fire wrap the wound, crying out as it sears off. It’s a temporary fix.
I narrow my eyes in on the gunman not too far away, and bolt forward to reach them. Blood seeps from my mouth by the time they’re lying limp on the ground.
A few more charges of werewolves come through.
I just saw a red wolf.
No, you’re dreaming. Pay attention.
I take out a string of shooters as I run around the entire camp, getting close to where the fire has spread to three more buildings. When I near the entrance, I see vehicles speeding out.
They’re retreating.