Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(59)

Weapon check—I have my pocket knife in my shorts pocket, and one of my silver daggers strapped under my shirt. No firearm though—who would clean a litter box with a firearm?

I had one fully functioning trap spell that had taken me a week to build with my hunter magic, but it was attached to a rust covered dagger I kept in a flowerpot by the door leading into the house. I was already too far away to grab it.

So I made it to a tree and jumped at it, reaching for the lowest branch, when a creamy golden colored wolf—Ember, she was pretty recognizable with her tawny coat and her cream colored chin and cheeks—charged out of the shadows of the forest and latched on to my calf.

She yanked me down before I could get a good grip on the tree branch.

I fell with a thump, landing on an exposed root.

That’s going to bruise.

Clenching my teeth, I kicked her in the face. She let go—even when training none of the wolves would bite me hard enough to draw blood, which meant they had to have a fairly loose hold—and scurried backward.

I could feel another wolf incoming, so I rolled to the side, avoiding them—I didn’t even have enough time to see who it was before two wolves grabbed me by the ankles and dragged me off.

I clenched my teeth as the gritty ground ripped at my exposed arms, leaving me with a friction burn.

My hunter powers started to pulse in my chest as my anger built.

I get the training—kind of, not really. But what’s the point of ambushing me with…five or six wolves? I don’t even stand a chance!

“Guys, stop it,” I shouted, but the wolves dragged me through the underbrush. Bushes snagged on my clothes and cut through my skin, and I still couldn’t shake free.

I saw two new wolves, and I felt my hunter powers crack—that was it.

“Enough!” I shouted, my voice hot with anger and lined with my useless hunter magic.

Immediately the wolves dragging me dropped my legs—apparently they realized they’d gone too far.

I spat out a leaf and brushed drool off my legs before I stood up and whirled around to face the wolves. There were ten of them gathered in the tiny clearing they’d dragged me to. All of them were down on their bellies, their ears flattened against their skulls and their tails tucked.

I was far from satisfied.

“No.” I was firm, but I couldn’t entirely keep the anger out of my voice. “You’re not getting out of this by acting cute. That was over the top. My entire side is going to be one massive bruise—it was all of you against me. Just me. With those kinds of odds, I’m not a challenge, I’m a chew toy.”

Aeric wiggled forward and whined, looking absolutely pitiful.

But that was the thing about werewolves. They had 100% of their human intelligence while in their wolf form, so he knew exactly what he was doing.

“No!” I repeated. “I’m done with this—and you all will be done with this. You’re not just going to grovel and get forgiven. Do. Not. Do. This. Again!” I stabbed my finger at each one of them.

Rio started to stand.

“Don’t even think about it,” I growled.

He slammed back down to the ground and meekly settled his head on a patch of dirt.

I placed my hand on my uninjured hip as I made myself stand tall, even though my side was on fire. “This isn’t training. I can’t possibly get stronger or learn anything when you ambush attack me. What’s the take away? That numbers matter? Newsflash—you push that lesson home every training session!”

I was pretty close to crying—I was an angry crier, because it was just so frustrating when they did something like this—but I could still feel my hunter powers in me, hot and restless.

I’ve got to get out of this place. This is never going to change because they’re wolves. They only respond to force, and I’m never going to be able to get them out of this.

I impatiently rubbed my eyes. “Ember—you especially know better. Why would you condone this?”

Ember gave me a high-pitched whine of sorrow.

I sighed, but heard a distant rustle of leaves and felt another bright spot flare in my hunter senses.

That’s a wolf…closing in fast.

I swung around and started to reach for my dagger, but Greyson was too fast.

He emerged from the trees—glowing white in the starlight—at a full run and skidded to a stop next to me.

I was gearing up to have to kick him or defend myself in some way—he hadn’t ever played ambush with the other wolves, but there was always time for a first—but to my surprise, he gently pushed his muzzle into my burning hip and sniffed.

He sniffed his way up and down my thigh and hip, his entire body tense.

“Stop that. Yeah, I landed on my side and got dragged.” I tried to wave him off, but he shoved his cold, wet nose under the hem of my shirt and sniffed my skin.

I squawked, but before I could flick his nose, Greyson stiffened, removed his nose, then snarled at his packmates with a growl that had me flinching.

The wolves couldn’t get any lower than they already were, but they did release a chorus of sad little whines and peered up at me.

Greyson moved so he stood in front of me and snarled again—clearly communicating with the Pack. I was pretty certain he was yelling at them based on his body language, but I wasn’t entirely sure.

A couple of the wolves flipped over onto their backs, showing their bellies.