Chapter 25
Silas leaned his shoulder against the truck and waited.
It shouldn’t take long for the stupid bitch to give in to the elements.
It had to be down to fifteen degrees and dropping fast. She’d better hurry the hell up.
She wasn’t the only one standing out in the cold.
Even with his long shearling coat, he had to fold his arms across his chest to keep from shivering.
Being in a slight valley, the wind didn’t have as much impact, so the snow poured straight down now, erasing his boot prints almost as fast as he made them.
Good. Let it bury everything.
He watched Kip struggle against the chains binding her to the tree. She had no coat, no hat, no gloves. And thanks to her mouth, no shoes. Her bare feet were already turning blue in the snow. Her lips moved, whether praying or cursing him didn’t matter; neither would help her.
She looked small. Breakable. Exactly how he wanted her.
They all deserved this… all women. Every last one of them.
But Princess Kip, who drifted into Wilder like she belonged and stole everything he’d worked for, everything that should have been his, she deserved it the most. She’d cost him years.
She’d cost him respect. She’d cost him the life he was owed.
Well, at least he’d gotten a little bit of extra money. That was something. Maybe her death would get him even more.
So, let the cold take her. He hoped she felt every second she had stolen from him.
Over time, he lost his generous spirit. Of course, she’d draw this out.
His fingers were going numb even inside his gloves.
There might not be much wind, but the cold cut straight through his coat.
He shifted his weight and tried not to think about how long he had been standing here. She needed to hurry the fuck up.
Trace would come. Of course, he would come.
The Daniels men never left anything behind they claimed as their own.
And Trace? He was the worst. The thought of what they’d do to him if they caught him made Silas’s stomach knot tighter than the cold ever could.
He should get his damn rifle out of the truck. One bullet, and this would be over.
But he’d wanted her to suffer. Still did.
Trace probably didn’t even know his girl was gone.
He smiled at the thought. Soon, the high and mighty Trace Daniels, along with the rest of his clan, would suffer a loss.
It was a favor of sorts. They needed to join the rest of the world.
The real world where everyone suffered. God knows he had.
Silas jerked upright when a wolf howl rolled through the trees, low and hungry, and nearby. Then another answered, closer but more to the right. Then a third. Shit. He hadn’t thought about the wolves. Not really. Sure, he tried to scare the girl, but he hadn’t believed it himself.
The sound crept up his spine and settled behind his eyes as he scanned the tree line past the spruce. He tried to laugh, but it was too damn cold. It was fine. Wolves wanted easy prey. Chained, barefoot, half-frozen prey. Kip was the easiest prey in the county tonight.
He pushed off the truck and stepped closer, boots crunching the fresh snow.
“You know no one’s coming for you, right, princess?
You need to go ahead and give it up. You have to be tired of the cold.
Why don’t you die already? You hear those wolves?
Believe me when I tell you that dying of the cold is a hell of a lot better than what they’ll do to you. ”
She lifted her head, her movement slow. Snow clung to her lashes. Her teeth chattered so hard he heard them click as her breathing was shallow. “M-m-my D-daddy is c-c-coming,” she said, voice thin but steady. “When he g-gets here, you’re g-gonna be s-s-sorry.”
Daddy. The word hit him like a slap. Trace Daniels, riding in like some storybook hero to save his little princess. Silas laughed, but it came out like some weird cackle.
The wolves howled again, closer, cutting off his laughter. They were probably further away than they sounded. He began to realize he was not as close to the truck as he’d thought. Then the trees behind Kip burst into movement.
Five wolves broke into the open, larger than any he had ever seen.
Part wolf, part something else... mastiff, maybe, or Malinois.
.. whatever they were, judging by the size of them, they’d lived for many generations in the wild.
Their coats were thick with snow and ice.
Breath steamed from their black nostrils.
Their lips were peeled back in a snarl, revealing teeth that were too long for any dog.
Silas’s heart slammed against his ribs. Surely they would go for her. But instead, their yellow-gold eyes locked on him. Except for the largest one. Oh, he was staring at Silas, alright, but his eyes were a strange blue.
He took a quick, involuntary step back. “They’re coming for you,” he told Kip, but his voice was too high.
He needed to get a grip, or the stupid cow might think he was scared.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Look at them. They’re going to rip you apart.
” He stepped back in a slow walk. To run back to the truck would trigger their predator response, ensuring they would attack him first.
The pack moved forward as one, silent except for the crunch of their paws on snow. They passed Kip without a glance. The biggest one—black as midnight, shoulders taller than Silas’s waist with those damn glowing blue eyes—led them straight toward him.
Kip’s voice floated behind them, soft and unafraid. “D-dodger. H-hey, big m-man. E-easy.”
Dodger. She was talking to that monster like it was a damn house pet. She was delirious. She had to be. The cold was already eating her brain.
Silas took another step back. Then another. Snow soaked his jeans up to the knees. The pack never slowed. Their attention stayed fixed on him, ears pointed forward, shoulders rolling with every deliberate step.
He made the decision in one heartbeat. If he could make it back to the truck, he could watch her die from there.
The truck was warm and safe. He could sit in his truck with his rifle across his lap.
He might even be kind enough to put her out of her misery once the wolves had chewed on her a bit. He was kind that way.
Turning, he ran as fast as he could, his boots slipping on the snow almost every step. The frigid air burned his lungs.
And then he saw them. Through the blinding snow, lights blinked in and out as they approached. Fuck! How had he found them so fast? He continued running, half expecting the bite of a wolf’s jaw on his leg all the way.
From the sound of it, the wolves had stopped stalking him. They must have seen the lights, too. They were pulling back towards the girl, probably deciding to take the easier meal after all.
Reaching his truck, he looked back and realized he was wrong.
Those crazy wolves had circled around Kip, pressing close as if trying to keep her warm.
Their bodies leaned against her legs, her sides, her back.
The black one, the one she called Dodger, sat directly in front of her, his head high, staring up at Silas like he could see right through the storm.
Silas blinked to keep the snow out of his eyes. What the fuck? This wasn’t possible. Wolves didn’t do that. Wolfdogs sure as hell didn’t do that. That was crazy. Were they rabid or something?
He was losing it. It must be the cold. Or the dark.
On his left, he saw headlights coming closer. It looked like three or four snowmobiles were cutting through the blizzard, moving fast and heading straight toward him.
The Daniels had found him. Fuck! By leaving the truck running to keep the engine warm with the lights still on, he’d created the biggest fucking beacon he could have.
Opening the door, Silas reached into the cab, his hand closing around the cold steel of his rifle. He worked the action and chambered a round. The wind had died down some, making his shot easier, but the sound was loud in the stillness.
There might still be time to get away, but first one bullet for the princess. Then head south to Mexico. With that hundred grand, he’d get a new name and start a new life.
He stepped back from the truck, raised the rifle to his shoulder, and found Kip through the scope. She was almost hidden within the circle of fur and muscle. Only her pale face was visible. But that was all he needed. Then one of the wolves moved.
Dodger sat in front of her, blue eyes staring straight down the barrel of his rifle. Silas let out a slow breath. Looked like he’d have to kill that damn wolf first. He took aim and settled his finger on the trigger.