For the third time since this fight began, one that Kier and I are most definitely on our way to losing, I find myself on the receiving end of a lunging attack that comes close to taking my head off.
Okay, maybe I'm being a touch dramatic, but it's close.
As it is, I dodge the large black-brown wolf who I am convinced is one of Frankie's heavies and who escaped the mysterious green-eyed wolf to come after me for revenge. What he'd want revenge for is a mystery, since I wasn't the one who killed his buddies.
I get away from him, but as I'm in the middle of a snarling, growling wolf free-for-all, I walk straight into another attack, one that opens up my side and has me snarling in pain.
A second later, as my pain is still blooming and my blood flowing, the wolf who struck me with his claws is suddenly no longer there. And by no longer there, I mean Kier has knocked him so hard and so far away from me I don't see where he ends up.
While it's a relief that I'm not dead, our situation hasn't improved, not really. I'm still bleeding, which means I'm slower when I need to be faster, and dozens of snarling wolves who'd love nothing more than to see us dead surround us.
I don't know what Kier does to clear some of the closest wolves away from me, but it involves a lot of growling, blood spraying, and no doubt an alpha stare or two, and for a second, there's a bit of room between them and us.
I don't waste that second.
I glance at Kier because it's the first opportunity I've had since this fight started maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago. Time is hard to track when everyone around you wants you dead.
He's just as bloodied as I am. Worse, I think, because to my shame, he's been bearing the brunt of the attacks so far. I wish that wasn't the case, but it's true.
His eyes meet mine. He has to be in pain with his side bloodied and more wounds than I can take in, but there's nothing to suggest it in the brightness of his gaze.
For just one moment his furious gaze turns tender and I know it's for me, because of me. Just as I know there's no way we're getting out of this, not with this many wolves between us and freedom.
It doesn't matter that Kier is an alpha and an amazing fighter. It wouldn't even matter if the mysterious wolf with the green eyes came to help us, because even then there'd still be too many of them.
Here I am doing the thing I told myself I wouldn't do anymore. Calculating odds.
We aren't going to survive. This moment will more than likely be the last time that I see Kier. Ever.
How do you tell someone you love them in a glance?
I don't know.
And I don't get to find out because that same second that I'm trying to communicate my love to Kier through eye contact, hoping I don't look constipated or super intense weird, is also the same moment I hear some idiot gunning his engine.
Soon all I can hear is the roar of a car engine getting progressively louder the closer it comes. Shifter hearing does not make it a pleasant experience, and in seconds it has more than just me wincing because it is loud.
My annoyance wars with relief because whoever has decided to drive their car or truck across the Range-which has to be private property-is distracting the wolves from their attack, giving me a much-needed break.
As a dark truck nears, more wolves turn away from me and Kier, which is when I suddenly pick up a familiar scent. It's so familiar that my eyes fill with relieved tears because I know that scent. I know those scents.
And I was wrong. It wasn't just one vehicle. The reason the sound of the engine was so loud is because roaring toward us are three trucks.
The first, the one leading the charge, stops with a squeal of rubber. A second after turning the engine off, the driver's side door swings open.
Before I can see who gets out first, a wolf lunges at me, thinking I'm nice and distracted. It's a mistake because even though I may have been, Kier wasn't. He ends the wolf's life with a powerful bite that breaks his neck.
After dropping the body on the ground, he gives the wolves standing around us a long stare as if daring any others to challenge him. I'm not surprised when no one volunteers. I imagine they prefer the numbers game after they saw what Kier can do in a one-on-one challenge.
"The first to attack will know a level of pain that most people could only ever dream about. Or experience in hell." Jackson Stone's gruff voice is filled with a level of fury I'd never expected him to possess.
I've gotten used to hearing the towering Dawley-Stone alpha groaning loudly at Regan's terrible jokes when we've put her on speakerphone in our weekly calls.
The wolves turn from us to Jackson, who is wearing a black and white flannel shirt, his shaggy walnut brown hair hanging loose around his face, and his hazel eyes burning with rage.
He slams his door shut. "The second to attack will end their own lives to escape the pain. The third might survive… but they'll wish they hadn't when the nightmares start. And so on, and so on. Tell me if anything I've said so far isn't clear."
No one says a word.
Yes, it's because we're all wolves and can't talk. But something tells me that even if Jackson were standing in front of humans and not wolves, no one would speak.
"No." Jeremy Stone climbs out of the passenger seat and slams his door shut. Familiar whiskey-brown eyes that I can't believe I didn't immediately recognize in Jaxon's face filled with disgust.
His eyes sweep over the wolves. "They've spilled blood. It deserves an answer. One with no mercy because that's what the Stone pack knows best."
I'm witnessing a reckoning.
I'm here to see what happens when two small boys who were treated as if they don't matter come back made all the stronger for all they lost, all they suffered.
They look ready to wipe out every last one of the Stone pack and never lose one wink of sleep over it. This is no longer about me and Kier, this is about the Stone brothers' homecoming, an event that's been years in the making.
I want to cry at everything two small boys must've suffered without a home, without family, and without pack-until they found one with us, the Blackshaws. But I also want to help tear this pack apart because none of them-not one of them-deserves to live after forcing two small boys out of their home.
Now I understand why Jackson called his new pack the Dawley-Stones, when it should've just been the Stones, because none of us had heard of another pack called the Stones.
Another door opens and this time it's a woman who steps out. A beautiful woman with long blond hair and blue eyes, but a hard look on a face I've known since childhood. "I say we just wipe them out anyway."
Yet another door swings open. "I agree," Regan adds, appearing even more furious than Jackson. As if ready to gut someone. "A pack like this shouldn't exist."
When I glance at the Stone pack, I discover they've edged back-are edging back. Some have fled already since there are a lot less of them now than there were before.
But not all.
A couple narrow their eyes as if they don't believe they've lost this confrontation, as if ready to get back to fighting. At least until another door opens and I hear Dayne's voice. "I don't think I'll even bother to shift for this. The slower the death, the better, in my eyes."
And that proves to be too much for most of the wolves who turn and run. I ignore the few remaining wolves lingering close by, not afraid enough to run, but not brave enough to fight, either.
Instead, I turn my attention to my family who is impossibly here when they shouldn't be. I'm so relieved not to be human right now because I'd be crying like a baby.
Gavin, one of the quietest among us, is the next to emerge, but he doesn't slip out of the vehicle alone. He's accompanied by an equally hard-faced Luka. But Nathan…
The fury in Nathan's eyes when he glimpses my bleeding side is the most unexpected thing ever. He's never without a smile on his face, a joke ready on his lips. But right now, he's looking downright murderous.
"The Merricks used to have a hunting game," Nathan says, stepping away from the truck, his green eyes shifting to his wolf's darker jade green. "I think we should give that a go. Hunt down some Stones. There doesn't look to be all that many places to hide around here."
And that's it.
I glance back at the sound of rapid steps moving quickly away as the rest of the wolves flee, nearly colliding with a familiar woman who left as a wolf but returned human.
It's Erin.
For several seconds, she does nothing but stare at Jackson and then at Jeremy. "I'd heard you started your own pack in Dawley."
This isn't a heartwarming scene I'm witnessing. There's no genuine emotion here. It's more curiosity in Erin's eyes, as if she were watching her TV show that I'd interrupted with my presence.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Jeremy asks.
She opens her mouth.
"She's nothing," Jackson replies, the cold lash of his voice making her flinch. "Just another remnant of this dead pack."
With that, he turns from her to me. "You okay?"
I nod, glancing over at Erin, who's walking away. It wasn't like I expected her to stay and fight to be a part of her sons' lives, not after what she did. But for her to just walk away like that without another word still comes as a surprise.
"You Blackshaws are a fierce bunch," Kier says.
I turn to find him crouched beside me, having shifted again while I was distracted.
"Fiercely loyal. Family always is," Dayne says, as they approach us.
Kier strokes his hand through my fur. "I don't have a family. It's just me."
Dayne claps him on the shoulder so hard he nearly faceplants, and I snort in amusement. Kier looks less than thrilled. "Too late. Looks like Hallee's claimed you, and she's the most obstinate of us all. Other than Talis, of course, but there's not much between them."
When Kier nods, I take it as a good sign he's not running screaming from us because we Blackshaws aren't easy. We love each other, but we're not easy. He told me he loved me and he's not running from this idea of family.
This is good, a good start.
I give him a happy, wolfy grin.
He instantly looks suspicious. "What are you looking so pleased about?"
I lean toward him and lick his face, leaving him spluttering.
Behind us, Savannah laughs. "Wolf kiss. See, I told you it was a thing, Jeremy."
Jeremy grumbles, and I give Kier, who's busy wiping his face, another wolfy grin.