Chapter 49

Chapter 49

I lunged for the closest rogue wolf, my jaws clamping down on his throat with devastating precision. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I tore through fur and flesh. The wolf howled in pain, thrashing wildly as I maintained my grip, driving him to the ground with the force of my attack.

Not waiting for him to fall completely, I pivoted and launched myself at a second opponent—a gray wolf who had been circling to my flank. My teeth found purchase in his shoulder, ripping through muscle. He yelped and stumbled backward, momentarily incapacitated.

A savage satisfaction surged through me. Two down. Perhaps I stood a chance after all.

The illusion of victory lasted mere seconds. The remaining wolves converged on me in a coordinated assault, a wave of snarling fur and bared teeth that overwhelmed my defenses. I fought with every ounce of strength I possessed, slashing with claws, biting whatever came within reach, twisting my body to avoid the worst of their attacks.

But there were too many. For every wolf I managed to fend off, two more took its place. A set of jaws clamped onto my hind leg, another pair tore into my flank. Pain exploded across my consciousness as teeth penetrated skin and muscle.

I struggled to maintain my footing, knowing that once I fell, the fight would be over. My wolf howled within me, urging me to continue despite the agony, to die on our feet rather than surrender.

A particularly vicious bite to my shoulder sent me staggering. I recovered momentarily, only to have my legs swept from under me by the coordinated attack of three wolves. The fall knocked the breath from my lungs, and before I could regain my footing, the pack was upon me, pinning me to the forest floor with their combined weight.

I thrashed wildly, desperate to free myself, but my strength was fading fast. Blood matted my fur, and each movement sent fresh waves of pain coursing through my battered body.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a human approach—a hunter, crossbow slung across his back and a syringe in his hand. I renewed my struggles, understanding instinctively that whatever that needle contained would end any hope of escape.

The man moved with practiced efficiency, finding an opening in the mass of wolves to plunge the needle into my exposed flank. The injection burned like liquid fire in my veins. Almost immediately, I felt my muscles begin to weaken, my coordination failing as the drug took effect.

My wolf's fury dimmed to a distant echo as the chemical invaded our system. I tried to maintain my wolf form, knowing it provided my best chance for survival, but the shift began to reverse involuntarily. Fur receded, claws retracted, and my body morphed painfully back to human form as the drug stripped away my control.

The wolves backed away cautiously as my transformation completed, leaving me naked and vulnerable on the forest floor. My vision blurred, the trees above me swimming in and out of focus. I couldn't move, could barely breathe through the pain and the paralyzing effect of whatever they had injected me with.

A shadow fell across my face. A man crouched beside me, his features coming into sharp focus despite my compromised vision—as if my brain were determined to memorize the face of my captor. He was older, perhaps in his fifties, with cold gray eyes and a network of scars across his weathered face. He smiled, revealing yellowed teeth.

"You're still awake?" he asked, genuine surprise coloring his mocking tone. "Impressive. That dose would have knocked out a male Alpha."

In response, I gathered what little strength remained and snarled at him, a purely human sound but carrying all the hatred and defiance of my wolf. The sound seemed to amuse him. His boot connected with my ribs in a vicious kick that sent fresh agony radiating through my already battered body.

"Feisty," he commented, delivering another blow, this time to my stomach. "I like that. Makes breaking you more satisfying."

I curled into myself, trying to protect my vital organs from his assault. Each impact drove the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping in the dirt. Through the haze of pain, I heard him issuing orders.

"Get the other syringe. The special one."

Another hunter moved into my field of vision, rifling through a backpack. The leader turned his attention back to me, his gaze crawling over my exposed body with undisguised lust.

"Beautiful," he murmured, reaching out to trail a finger along my collarbone. "Perfect specimen. Great muscle tone, excellent bone structure." His hand moved lower, across my breast and down to my stomach in a touch that made my skin crawl. "And in estrus too. Lucky us."

I summoned what little moisture remained in my mouth and spat at him. The glob landed on his cheek, sliding down to his jaw in a satisfying trail.

His expression hardened. He wiped his face with deliberate slowness, then backhanded me with enough force to snap my head to the side. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

"Bitch," he growled, but quickly regained his composure, the leering smile returning. "But I guess that's literally what you are, isn't it? A bitch in heat."

"Go to hell," I managed to rasp, the words barely audible through my swollen lips.

He laughed. "Spirited. The clients will pay extra for that." His eyes narrowed in calculation. "What's your rank in your pack? Beta? Maybe even Alpha's mate?"

Despite my compromised state, I recognized the danger in his question. If they knew I was—or had been—mated to an Alpha, they might use me as leverage against Kieran and the pack. Whatever my personal feelings about him now, I wouldn't endanger others.

"I don't belong to any pack," I lied, forcing conviction into my weak voice.

The man studied me for a long moment, his eyes cold and assessing. "Is that so?" he asked, clearly skeptical. "A lone wolf? Out here in territory claimed by one of the strongest packs in the region? That seems unlikely."

I maintained my silence, meeting his gaze with what I hoped was convincing defiance rather than the fear that churned in my gut.

"No matter," he finally said, waving dismissively. "We'll know soon enough. The drug will loosen your tongue."

The second hunter returned with another syringe, this one filled with an amber liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dappled forest light.

"Hold her," the leader instructed, taking the syringe.

Rough hands pinned my shoulders to the ground as the man flicked the syringe, examining the needle with clinical detachment. "Last chance," he said, looking down at me. "What's your rank and pack?"

"I told you," I gasped through the pain. "I don't have one."

His face hardened into an expression of cold indifference. "Then you're useless," he stated flatly, raising the syringe.