Wolf Bound Page 14

  I continue driving and pass the sign that announces the Breck city limits. We leave it behind, pass a few houses, and head off into the wilderness. The light from the sun is fading and the pines form dark shadows against the fiery sky. We're heading out into the wilderness, but Wyatt doesn't tell me to slow yet.

  “That doesn't surprise me,” Aunt May says with regret. “Savage Wolves never keep their word.”

  “There are different breeds of werewolf?” I ask, shocked that I'm hearing these words come from her mouth. I want to ask her how involved she's gotten in this world, but I hold back. There are more important things.

  “Savage Wolves aren't as intelligent as Noble Wolves,” Wyatt says. “But they make up for that by acting vicious. It's them who the werewolf movies are about. Mom and Dad have talked to them about the attacks, but they always laugh at us. They want us to play by their rules or they'll try to destroy us. I think they will, even if we do."

  I think of the light gray wolf. Its teeth. And then, the terrifying illustrations in the book. They'll kill eventually.

  “What about Cayden?” I ask. “What's he getting into?”

  “That's the thing,” Wyatt faces me. “Cayden went to challenge them. He wants to do something about not being able to see you and about the attacks before they get worse. The Baltic Wolves will go after you if they see you around him. They already have, so he has to act. He also knows they won't honor their agreement long. If he wins, they have to leave the area and the attacks will stop.”

  “He's challenging them by himself?” I ask.

  “Yeah. My parents still want to avoid the fight if they can, but he won't have it. Cayden can't take them all on. I can't get him to stop. This kind of thing is unheard of unless he's challenging for alpha.” Wyatt's voice shakes. He's terrified for his brother. “Hurry.”

  I step on the gas. “I am.”

  “Savage Wolves don't fight fair,” Aunt May says.

  “We need to talk when we get back home,” I say.

  She says nothing to that. Cayden's best chance is for me to convince him not to do this for me. If he dies because of me, I'll never live with myself. Wyatt's relying on me.

  “We need to warn him and go,” Aunt May says.

  “Agreed,” I say, thinking of the pistol under my seat. If we're too late, I may need to use it. Aunt May will see me going the way of my mother, and from the sounds, she wasn't too fond of how she acted. But I'll help in any way I can. The time to be a bystander is over.

  “Pull over,” Wyatt shouts. “I smell Cayden.” He leans close to the window, sniffing.

  I do. Trees tower over us like giant guards, and I lean over and grab the pistol from under the seat. Aunt May leans around to see what I'm holding, and I expect her to tell me to put it away or scold me from going into the attic, but instead, she nods.

  “How many silver bullets?” she asks.

  “Six.”

  I feel as if my worlds have crashed together. Or maybe this has always been my world and I've only just realized it.

  “Good,” Aunt May says, getting out of the car. “Keep that out and ready.”

  “I also have a silver knife,” I say, reaching under my seat. Since the werewolf in the parking lot, I've tucked a secondary weapon under there as well. I tuck that into my belt loop. The weapons look ridiculous with the dress, but maybe they'll tell Cayden not to mess around.

  “Keep that as well,” Aunt May says. “Use the pistol first.”

  “Maybe you know how to shoot better than me,” I suggested, though I don't want to relinquish control. In the evening light, the forest's shadows deepen, forming caves and dark cracks.

  “You had better keep that,” Aunt May says. Even in the gloom, her eyes are bright blue. She fingers her pendant for a moment. “Let's find Cayden and leave the area. I don't have a good feeling about this.”

  “Cayden told me they're meeting in a clearing about a mile from here,” Wyatt says. “Walk fast. I'll show you where it is.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Wyatt is the fastest walker among the three of us, and my skirt tries to hold me back by getting caught on weeds and low-hanging tree branches. We walk uphill, my gun ready, with Wyatt leading. He sniffs the air occasionally, the only reminder that this twelve-year-old kid is a werewolf capable of killing me or Aunt May. He says nothing and advises us to stay quiet as we navigate the rocks and narrow wildlife trails. Even though I sing, the hike taxes my lungs, squeezing my chest with pain until I have to stop and take a break for a moment. Aunt May puts her hand on my back, urging me to keep going.

  Or she's warning me back.

  But Wyatt motions to us to follow. The poor kid is so terrified I can't help but push on. I won't leave him out here by himself.

  “The wind is blowing to our back,” Aunt May says. She's less out of breath than I expected.

  I know what it means. The Baltic Wolves won't smell us coming. But my heart continues to race and my stomach won't give me peace.

  Wyatt leaps over rocks and holds up a hand to tell us to stop once we reach flat ground. I do, and Aunt May looks at me for a second, and then in the direction Wyatt faces.

  Cayden stands in a clearing ahead, amid tall grass and boulders, and he has his back turned to us. He looks at thick trees as if waiting for something, and I'm about to call to him when I see what he's facing.

  Movement fills the darkness and five men emerge from the trees, fanning out to stand in a semicircle around Cayden. Wyatt ducks, using a boulder to hide him, and Aunt May grabs my arm and pulls me down so we're peeking over the stone. I squint. I recognize the young man in the hoodie and the guy in the leather jacket. Two of the other men are older, and the guy in the middle I recognize as well.

  It's the man trying to buy the store from Aunt May—the one who came into the store to talk to her.

  Terror grips me so hard I don't even look to see Aunt May's reaction. The middle man wears a suit as he has before, only it now has pine needles and leaf bits sprinkled on it. He places one hand on his tie as if ready to loosen it.

  And shift?

  Now I know why Cayden got uneasy around that guy. He's a Savage Wolf. How can someone walk among humans and then try to murder them?

  “Travon, you've broken our truce.”

  The man grins. Hatred rises in me and not just because he's trying to buy the store. He looks at Cayden with amusement.

  “What are you talking about?” the man asks. He's not even creative. “I broke no truce. We have killed no one.”

  I pull the pistol from my belt which I replaced while climbing. Sweat snakes between my fingers. There are five of them and one of Cayden. If I don't intervene, I know how this will end.

  “You broke the truce. You said you would attack no one. That means your pack has to leave the area.”

  Travon laughs. “How noble,” he says. “What will you do if we refuse to leave? We may settle where we want. The truce, remember?”

  “Cayden,” I whisper, hoping he hears.

  But none of them seem to realize we're here.

  “I'll fight you,” he says. “You broke the truce, so it's off.”

  My mouth gapes open. Cayden's shoulders hunch. He balls his fists. Fury overtakes him and I fear it'll take one push to set him over the edge. Maybe that push already happened last night. The Baltic Wolves lured him into a trap and they used me to drive Cayden to act.

  The other men laugh.

  He'll die because of me.

  “I'm afraid you'll lose,” the leader says. “And then you'll lose your pretty little girlfriend.”

  It's the only push he needs. Cayden rips off his jacket and tosses it to the side. Before I can process what's happening, his skin ripples and dark fur, matching his hair, bursts from his skin as joints pop and the rest of his clothing rips away. He sinks to the ground as he growls as a wolf, low and dangerous. Hackles rise on black fur as Cayden stares down the leader of the other pack.

  I blink. The transformation
happened in less than two seconds.

  Travon removes his tie and suit jacket, tossing them to the side where one of his lackeys catches it. The other four men back away, leaving him space to face the challenge. The middle-aged man's skin ripples as gray fur erupts over his body in less than a second, and he falls to all fours as his body contorts and pops. In another blink, the light gray wolf from the parking lot faces Cayden, baring all his teeth.

  Travon knows about me and wants to see what Cayden will do. He came after me to make Cayden break the truce.

  And now they will fight to the death.

  I raise my pistol, but the gray wolf attacks, leaping on Cayden before he can make the first move. The two turn into a tangle of fur and growling. Dust flies. My hands shake as I curl my fingers around the trigger. I could hit Cayden if I shoot. There's nothing I can do.

  “Leave him alone!” Wyatt shouts, ripping off his jacket. Next to me, his body pops and sprouts fur, though a second slower than Cayden. Another, smaller black wolf scrambles over the rock, claws clicking, and runs to join the fray.

  “Wyatt!” I shout, but Aunt May grabs my arm.

  “Get back,” she demands. “Run back to the car!”

  “No,” I choke. We're helpless here. My vision blurs as tears flow. Aunt May turns into a blur and the world becomes a storm of growling and snapping. I can't see who's winning.

  A wolf yelps.

  It's Cayden. I know it is. Shaking my head, I pull away from Aunt May.

  “Brie! Get back! Let me go.”

  I push past her and through the underbrush, drawing my silver knife with the other hand. Five light gray wolves gang up on Cayden, who lies on the ground with a bleeding back leg. Wyatt stands in front of his brother, snarling, trying to keep the other pack away from each other.

  The leader sniffs and looks up at me.

  He snarls as I freeze, knife and gun in hand. What am I doing? The other four gray wolves circle around Wyatt. I look behind me.

  Aunt May's missing.

  She's run. Knowing she can't stop me, she must have run. Better she saves herself.

  I'm on my own. I raise the pistol, shaking, and take aim at Travon, the largest wolf of the five. He growls again, baring all teeth, as if he wants me to know how much death will hurt. I curl my finger around the trigger.

  One of the five wolves has vanished.

  Something plows into me from behind.

  I fall to the ground and a rock explodes pain in my side. Claws rake skin. Lines of red hot pain form on my arms as I raise the knife and slash at gray fur. I fire and the gun explodes. Smoke fills the air as I raise my arm to guard against gnashing teeth. They snap, inches from my face, as I turn and slash again. Blood droplets fly as my blade finds its mark with a sickening wet sound. The wolf snarls in agony as Cayden and Wyatt bolt for me, ready to defend.

  Travon leaps at Wyatt, closing his jaw around the smaller wolf's neck. Wyatt yelps.

  And a horrific snap sounds through the air and the black wolf goes limp, hanging in Travon's grasp.

  Pain explodes in my shoulder as my opponent sinks his teeth into flesh. Yellow splotches spread through my vision and block out Cayden, and the searing in my flesh merges with the cracking of bones. A metallic smell fills my nostrils.

  Blood.

  Mine.

  I'm bleeding out.

  My heart races. A chill sweeps through me. My shoulder's wet. Dizziness stirs the world, which fills with wolves. They leap over me. Two more black ones, a brown one, a blond one. The Lowes. They've arrived, and they tear into the Baltic Wolves, drawing yelps. But they might as well be miles away. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Numbness spreads through my arm like ice water, blocking out the pain, and faintness sweeps over me, begging me to give in and let the agony stop. The wolf grinds his teeth, trying to reach my throat, until a grayish-gold wolf I've never seen before rams into it from the side, sinking its teeth into the surprised monster's neck. A deadly snap sounds.

  Darkness sweeps over me, blocking out the trees, but a pair of blue, intense eyes peer through death, locking on me for a moment before looking away in shame. They belong to the gray-gold wolf.

  It takes everything to ask two words as the darkness deepens and pulls me away

  “Aunt May?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Brie...no. Why didn't you stay away?”

  Pain thunders through darkness. My shoulder is fire. Pulsing. Screaming. The shock's worn off. I open my eyes as a high-pitched whine fills my ears, threatening to make me black out again. A shudder steals over me. I'm freezing.

  “Cayden?”

  He leans over me, in human form and bare save for a pair of shorts and scratches running up and down his chest. Trees and sky hang overhead. He's beautiful, even with tears running down his cheeks. But I hate seeing him in pain.

  “What—?” I ask, fighting for breath. I suck down air, trying to chase the agony away, but it remains, trying to shove me back into the void. “What happened?”

  Cayden looks to the side, to where a human form, now bare, lies facedown in the tall grass. I recognize Wyatt's combed-back hair, but now it's disheveled and his head lies at a terrifying angle.

  Opening his mouth to speak, Cayden sniffs, holding back a dam of emotion. “Wyatt...that little guy...Wyatt's...they killed him. My family's chasing the Baltic Wolves...Brie, the bite is bad.”

  The bite.

  I connect it with the pain but I don't dare look.

  “Cayden.”

  He turns his gaze to me. I never want to see such sadness in his eyes again. He doesn't even look up as feet crash through underbrush and four wolves, two black, one blond, and one brown, bound into the clearing and pop as they change shape. Another curtain of darkness lowers over my vision, but I take a breath, causing another wave of pain, and it's just enough to hold it back.

  “Don't fall asleep. Please,” Cayden pleads. “I won't let them take you.” He locks his hand with mine. For a moment, the pain flees.

  But a woman cries. A man lets out an anguished groan. The Lowe family. Wyatt. I never want to hear these sounds of agony again.

  “Brie. Don't close your eyes.” Aunt May leans over me, holding her jacket over her bare chest. Her wide blue eyes are open in terror.

  “Aunt...Aunt May?”

  “Please, Brie!” She grips my shoulder like she's trying to hold in my insides. “Don't give up.”

  I shudder. Everything's cold inside.

  I'm losing blood and Aunt May is a werewolf.

  I don't understand either and now I'll never know the truth. A strange calm fills me, but I push it away as Cayden rains tears. I can't do this to him or Aunt May. “What do I do?”

  “I can't let her die,” Aunt May says, trying to hide her words from me. “But she can't live this life...”

  Cayden sucks down his tears, restoring his focus. “The bite. It's too bad for a human. He cut an artery. We won't get her to the hospital in time.”

  My eyelids droop. The ground invites me in. I'm heavy. Sinking. The fight leaves me and even the pain fades as I drift away. The cries of the woman and the anguished cursing of the man ride with me, and soon Cayden's grief will join them.

  Aunt May grimaces, shoves Cayden to the side, seizes my necklace, and rips it away.

  For the first time in my life, I'm without my silver pendant.

  My body convulses and I curl into a ball, teeth gnashing and grinding each other.

  “What are you doing?” Cayden shouts in terror.

  “I'm saving her,” Aunt May yells back. “And damning her.”

  * * * * *

  The universe is a searing pain. Screams fill the air. They could be mine. My eyelids fly open and I face a dusty ceiling where a single light bulb hangs overhead. Cobwebs crisscross and hang like ghostly fingers reaching for me. Every muscle tenses. Death hangs in the corners. I hadn't realized it would hurt like this.

  A scream escapes my throat. I turn over on the cot. Dark figures fill the
room. Angels of death. One of them grips my hand and squeezes. But instead of the chill I expect, his hand offers heat and strength.

  “Brie,” Cayden whispers, breath on my ear.

  For a second, the pain dulls. I take a breath without my muscles screaming and focus on the rest of the room. A cellar or basement. Everly and Remo stand behind Cayden. I sweep the room with my gaze, searching for Wyatt, but he's absent. Then I remember. The angels of death have come for him in the form of Savage Wolves.

  Spasms rack my limbs, curling me into a ball. I squeeze my eyes shut. Gritting my teeth, I try to hold in the scream, but it forces its way out. Maybe I'm in hell and Cayden is only here to remind me of what I no longer deserve.

  “Shh,” Aunt May says. Two hands touch my back, rubbing the lines of fire that hold my spine. “It will be over soon. Breathe.” Her words stretch like she's close to tears.

  The spasm fades, and I turn over, fearful of taking a breath. Cayden and Aunt May look down at me, and Cayden's wild eyes fill with a storm of emotion. Even in a world of pain, he's beautiful.

  “What's happening?” I manage as another inferno tightens my limbs, my abdomen, my entire being.

  “Brie,” Cayden breathes in the dark. He waits for the ocean of pain to flatten again. “You're becoming a werewolf. It's the only way you can stay alive. I won't lose you.” He kisses me on the forehead, but as soon as the caress of his lips vanish, the storm of fire returns, ringing my ears and whisking away the cot and the cellar as oblivion spreads, leaving nothing behind.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Coppery light peeks through my eyelids. Voices float through space, many of them with a quality like I'm listening to an argument at a neighbor's house. Despite the distance, words take perfect shape.