Page 9

I clutch the dagger tighter.

Only now I don't know who to point it at.

"Left flank!" One of them snaps the order over the wind, and somehow I hear every word. He has short black hair and a voice made for giving orders. "Don't let them get behind her!"

The one with copper hair laughs.

Laughs. In the middle of this.

A wolf lunges for him, and he's just not there anymore. He twists aside like it's a game, jaws snapping on empty air, and then he drives his fist down into the beast's skull so hard I hear something crack.

And the third...

The third one is the worst.

He's the biggest of them all, with long dark hair whipping around his face and a scar cutting down through one brow and over his cheek. He doesn't dodge. He doesn't wait for orders. He goes straight at the wolves like he's one of them. Like he's worse than them. He catches one by the scruff and throws it, and the sound that comes out of his throat when he does it is pure animal.

His eyes are glowing.

I blink hard. I blink again.

They're still glowing. Gold and burning, like a fire's been lit inside his skull.

That's not possible. None of this is possible. One dire wolf can kill a grown man. Everyone knows that. Everyone. And these three are fighting a whole pack without a single weapon between them, and they're not afraid.

They're enjoying it.

Maybe I'm already dying. Maybe this is what freezing to death feels like. Your mind goes soft, and you start seeing things. Monsters fighting monsters in the snow.

The fight turns into chaos. Snow flies everywhere. Wolves snarl. The men shout to one another in short, sharp bursts. Bodies slam into the ground, so heavy I feel each one. Jaws snap shut with a sound like a door slamming.

I try to back toward the nearest tree. If I can get my back against something, at least nothing can come at me from behind.

My legs won't go.

I tell them to move, and they just... don't. They're stiff and heavy and far away, like they belong to someone else.

The noise starts to fade. The growls go quieter. The shapes start to pull back.

They did it. Somehow, they drove the wolves off.

A wolf bursts out of the storm right beside me.

I don't even have time to finish screaming. It slams into me like a falling tree, and I go flat on my back in the snow. Every bit of air leaves my body at once. My head bounces off the frozen ground, and the world goes white and starry.

When it clears, the wolf is on top of me.

Its weight crushes me down into the snow. Its paws pin my shoulders. I can't move. I can't breathe. Its jaws snap shut inches from my face, and its breath washes over me, hot and rank, like rotting meat.

I somehow still have the dagger. I jam it upward between us, the point aimed at its throat, my other arm thrown over my neck, but in this position, I can’t get the knife into the wolf.

This is it, I think. This is really it.

It draws back to bite.

And then it's gone.

Ripped away so violently that snow sprays across my face. I blink it out of my eyes and turn my head.