Page 52 of Wild Wolf

“Yes, this branding is a problem. While Fenerec are bonded with a wolf, they are not mere animals to be branded and treated like cattle at the whim of witches.”

“Well, from what I can tell, that’s how it works here.” The wild wolves still circled, and every now and then, one crossed the road some fifty feet away. In some ways, it reminded me of a rabid animal, lacking the grace and stability of a healthier beast. I couldn’t spot any foam around the wolf’s muzzle, but something about it put me on edge. “They’re moving like they’re sick.”

“It is a sickness of spirit more than of body, but the body and the spirit are one, so the sickness of the spirit manifests as a sickness of the body. That one is far gone, but it has not broken yet. None of them have truly broken.”

“Broken? What do you mean?”

“The wolf has gone truly mad. Once a wild wolf breaks, there is nothing left but violence and the need to hunt. Consider that beast to be in the final stages of its sickness before it goes beyond the point of no return. When it reaches that point, it will kill everyone and everything around it, until there is nothing left to kill, and then it will go hunt for new prey, for all it knows is to hunt and eat. On rare occasions, they will seek out a mate, but usually, they live only to kill. The ones that seek out a mate can sometimes, if fortune favors them, be saved. But usually not.”

While the wolves circling around us seemed ill, none of them were randomly attacking anything that moved. “Any suggestions if I run out of silvered bullets?”

“Aim for the head or the heart. Heart shots will take wolves out for a while, even the older ones. Head shots are more likely to kill, but the heart shots will disable them. Young wolves won’t survive heart shots. You can also sever the spine. That will kill young wolves, but any wolf that has seen a decade can recover from a broken spine or neck with time. Sometimes younger wolves can survive, but it is rarer.”

That explained a lot about my general survivability. “Understood. And the ved’ma?”

“They are as fragile as any human for the most part, although some, like Amber, are blessed with long years. We are pleased to see she will be able to share her wisdom with us for years to come. You have done us all a great service. Your wolf bonding with hers will bring you both much prosperity.” Xue looked me over from head to toe. “I have heard much about your culinary prowess. You should sample more as you make your masterpieces.”

I snorted a laugh. “That is the politest way I’ve ever heard someone tell me I need to eat more.”

“I have my moments.”

The hunting wolves drew closer, and armed with three handguns and a rifle, I kept an eye on them and on Amber, who stayed close to Richard and Nicolina. Despite the initial plan for Lane to watch us both, Lane stuck with me, Amber stuck with them, and everyone else scattered between the various vehicles. Anthony had several guns, but he stayed in the largest of the SUVs, crouched down so he would be somewhat protected from unexpected gunfire.

Desmond guarded Anthony, which I’d be appropriately grateful for later.

The Anderson twins worried me, especially when Dante opted to join me. He’d been given a shotgun, which he held tucked under his arm.

“That is not appropriate gun handling,” I informed him, my gaze fixed on one of the wild wolves creeping closer to Amber.

My wolf wanted me to deal with him, preferably with excessive violence.

I was running out of reasons why to deny my wolf.

“It’s really not. I wanted to let you know I could hear you growling from all the way over there. I thought I’d come over to let you know you’ve basically made it clear that if they come any closer we’ll retaliate.”

“That one is looking at Amber.”

“Unmated bitch. Every unmated male that catches a scent of her is going to be looking at her until she’s mated. That’s fairly normal. Your wolf is probably annoyed because he’s interested, she has been carting your blanket around with her, which is considered to be a display of interest, and that wolf is competition—dangerous competition. At this stage, you’ve established your territory with your growling, so if you shoot any that go near Amber, well, the other wolf shouldn’t have been sniffing near your woman.”

“She’s not my woman,” I reminded Dante.

“Yet. But this is what potential pairings should be like. You’re mutually interested, and your role as the interested gentleman basically involves growling at other interested males while she enjoys the attention. Because she’s interested in you, she’ll do the growling if a woman comes around.”

“Gentleman? Don’t you Fenerec usually use male or female?”

“Amber will come over here and put me in my place if I call you just a male. She got growly with Desmond for calling you a male earlier. It was a sight to behold. But, seriously. If that wolf takes a step closer to Amber, you’re good to fire. We’re all ready. We have mutually agreed you’re probably going to be the one to take the first shot because of Amber, although Amber’s been eyeballing the one bitch, who seems to have identified there are eligible gentlemen in our group. This is important for you to hear at this stage: these wolves are sick enough they will likely try to force Amber into a mating she does not want.”

Under any other circumstance, I would have hesitated about killing anyone, but the thought of any of them trying to take advantage of the woman pissed me and my wolf off so much I disengaged the safety on the Beretta, aimed, and fired.

While I’d been told to shoot between the eyes or aim for the heart, I figured a silvered bullet to the brain would get the job done. The wolf collapsed, and I selected my next target and took a second shot, also aiming for the wolf’s head. My wolf growled his approval.

The third wolf realized I’d taken the offensive, but not in time to escape or retaliate, and he fell, dead before his body hit the ground.

Dante rolled his shoulders, assumed a proper firing position with his shotgun, and scanned the trees for a target. “Now that is how you flirt with Amber, Declan.”

“I prefer using my brownies, personally.” The stench of blood and death hung in the air, and the wolves howled to each other, broke free of their shock, and rushed at us. At my wolf’s urging, I shot another in the center of its chest. It staggered a few steps before it fell, and black blood bubbled from the entry hole.

While I’d considered Dante to be a more pacifistic sort, he opted for overkill to take out his first wolf, using three rounds with his shotgun to finish the job. Even if the wolf was older, I figured it would take it a damned long time to recover from having a shredded ruin of a chest.