Page 69 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

There were no more attackers. Not at this end of the clearing.

Jared and Clay were finishing subduing the wolf who’d been racing to aid its friend. I searched to be sure no one else was coming, finding the clearing eerily silent and still.

There came one last terrified yelp out of the wolf Clay and Jared held pinned against the ground.

Clay’s brusque voice penetrated my mind in a loud shout, Allie, you good?

I struggled to make sense of what I was seeing in the distance. A black wolf rose, its bright orange eyes narrowing on the group of wolves, his and Samson’s, who had stopped fighting near the heart of the clearing.

I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure it out.

Ryland killed their alpha.

And by rights—in accepting Samson’s open challenge and defeating him—Ryland was now their alpha too.

The other pack, I realized, was the one who’d taken it upon themselves to attack my friends. Jared and Clay held one against the dirt, and another lay dead at my feet. But their alpha…he seemed to have vanished.

Smart pooch.

Allie, Clay shouted in my mind again, snapping me out of the strange fog trying to claim my mind.

Oh god.

My wolf, understanding my need to go to my friends, relinquished her hold, allowing me to shift back. I retched as soon as I did, hastily wiping my shaking human hand across the back of my mouth before crawling through the grass, searching for my friends.

“Vivian!” I cried, tears blurring my eyes and a burning in my chest. “Viv!”

“Here,” A small voice croaked, and I rushed toward it, knees scraping over sharp sticks and tiny rocks.

She lay partially on her side, clutching her arm against her chest—where blood seeped between her fingers, gushing from a wound I prayed was not what I thought it was.

She stared at me in horror, and I realized how this all must look. Her best friend had turned into a wolf right in front of her. And another impossibly large wolf had attacked her and her friends. And I was ass fucking naked.

“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, my throat thick with tears and voice watery. “I’m so so sorry, Viv.”

“Where’s Layla? Quinn?”

I turned to search for them. Viv was the closest to me and I needed to make sure she was alright. “Don’t move, okay,” I whispered to her harshly before picking up my battered body, finding my mangled ankle was still healing and I had to limp.

“Jared!” I called to the white wolf, his amber eyes finding mine across the short distance between us, completely ignoring whatever was happening on the other side of the clearing. I had bigger problems to deal with right now. “Stay with Viv!”

“Layla!” I called, voice hoarse and broken. “Quinn?”

When no reply came, I stopped to listen, shutting my eyes to focus only on sound. The raucous beating of my heart was almost too loud to hear anything else, but there, not far, was the distant sound of Layla crying.

She’s alive.

I rushed toward the sound, dragging my useless leg behind me, until I tripped over something in the grass and fell onto my elbows, wincing as twin trails of electrifying pain raced all the way up my forearms to the tips of my fingers.

I groaned, twisting onto my back to find what I’d tripped over. It had been Quinn’s leg. Layla was sobbing into his chest, both of them had been mostly hidden in the grass and the shade of a wide pine next to where they lay.

“Layla,” I hedged, reaching out a hand to her, trying to see if she was injured.

“Help him,” she moaned, and I gently curled my fingers around her frail shoulders, lifting her from his chest. “He won’t wake up.”

“I need to see,” I said, the threat of bile acrid on my tongue as I took in Quinn’s injury.

He was unmoving.

“He won’t wake up,” Layla repeated, curling her knees into her chest and beginning to rock. “He won’t wake up. He won’t wake up.”

I felt for a pulse, pressing my fingers to the tacky blood marring his neck. It was weak, but it was there. I could feel it. I held my hand in front of his mouth, feeling the barest whisper of breath against my fingers. “He’s not dead,” I said, more in shock than to reassure Layla.

He was so pale. His lips had lost almost all color. His black hair, flopped over his forehead, only served to make the illusion of his death more pronounced.

“He isn’t dead,” I said, louder this time. I jumped to my feet.

“Help!” I shouted. “We need help. Please!”

Jared was standing guard near Viv and Clay was still holding the foreign wolf down, so it was Charity who answered my call. I knew it was her, even though she was in her wolf form. She left the group gathering around a blood covered Ryland and came to us, shifting back to human form mid-run.

“What is it?” she asked, and I saw a jagged cut sliced in a wide arc through her breasts. But it was already healing. She would be alright.

“He’s hurt,” I said. “He needs a hospital.” Charity’s eyes darkened.

“Charity!” I shouted when she didn’t move or answer me.

Her jaw tightened and as though she’d just come to a difficult decision, she growled angrily and kneeled. “Move out of the way.”

I did.

She lifted Quinn carefully from the ground as though he weighed nothing at all. And even though he dwarfed her in size, she was able to cradle him to her bare chest.

She didn’t ask Ryland for permission, I realized. She didn’t even turn around. Ryland was busy with the other wolves—the involuntary new members of the Forest Grove pack.

“I’ll do what I can,” Charity said solemnly. “But I can’t promise anything.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“No, Quinn!” Layla cried, trying to stand, but falling back onto her tailbone.

“Layla?” I kneeled back down as Charity vanished from sight, gone with Quinn to god knew where. “Are you hurt?”

She sobbed quietly. “What’s happening?” she asked, her hand reaching down to her left leg and coming away streaked with blood.

I batted her hand away and lifted the hem of her jeans, my blood going cold at what I found.

“La La,” I breathed, a fresh wave of tears stinging my eyes. “Layla, did it bite you?”

“Hmm?” she asked, looking at me, but not looking at me at the same time. She was in shock, I realized.

I shook her. “Layla, did it bite you?”

She looked at the wound on her calf with unfocused eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied numbly, then, “You…” she trailed off. “You were a dog.”

Her breaths were heavy and just before she fainted, I realized the signs and lunged to catch her, laying her against my lap.

I hugged her to me tightly, crying over her hair. “I’m so sorry La La. I never meant—” my words were broken by hiccupping sobs.

“Allie,” the voice was Jared’s and when I looked up, I found him there in all his naked glory, with a hand cupping his junk.

Vivian standing next to him, her hand still covering the wound on her arm.

I could smell it. It smelled like Layla’s wound.

The blood laced with something I couldn’t name.

Not even really a particular smell—it was a mark.

Like a small piece of the wolf I’d killed was now imprinted into their blood.

Vivian didn’t have to lift her hand for me to know what lay beneath it.

“What have I done?” I choked, not bothering to keep the darkness at bay anymore. I let it consume me. Let all the hateful, ugly thoughts take root.

My fault.

All my fault. It was always my fault. My sister. My mom. My dad.

Quinn.

Layla and Viv.

The dead wolf in the grass fifteen feet away. Everyone around me gets hurt.

It’s the rule. It is law.

Every good thing in my life had to be paid for with at least two bad things.

Someone was shaking me, or maybe I was just shaking, I didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter. Nothing could undo what had been done here. My friends had been hurt because of me. Their lives could change forever because of me. What would happen to them if they didn’t shift? Would Ryland kill them?

No. I wouldn’t let him. I’d end him if he tried.

The uncertainty of it all swirled like storm clouds, blocking out any rays of hope.

“Allie. Allie!”

A break in the darkness and through a haze of tears I saw Viv, her face hard and worry wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “Allie, snap out of it!”

I tried.

I really tried, but the panic was going to undo me. Already the blackness was seeping in around the edges. I was going to puke or pass out or explode—I wasn’t sure which.

My head snapped to one side, my cheek stinging and stars flashing in my eyes.

I tasted blood on my tongue. The sobs stopped and I was able to take a breath after the initial shock of Vivian’s slap wore off and my brain registered that she was kneeling in front of me, searching my eyes. “Allie, you with me?”

I swallowed hard, swiping a hand over my face to wipe away the snot and tears. I didn’t trust myself to speak right away, so I nodded.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here,” she said, looking from me to Jared and back again. “But if anyone gets to lose their shit, it’s definitely not going to be you.”

Her words stung and I recoiled.

“What the hell, Allie?” Vivian added, lifting Layla from my lap to pull our friend onto her own. Vivian held Layla close, brushing her long black hair away from her face as she checked Layla over quickly for injury.

I didn’t like the way she was holding her, like I was the dangerous one.

Like Layla needed protection from me. A hard ball formed in my throat and I jumped as something fell across my shoulders.

Clay’s sweater. I peered up to see him standing behind me, clutching a tattered piece of clothing to him.

I immediately searched for the wolf he’d been pinning down, and Clay met my gaze when I couldn’t find it. “Dead,” he explained, jaw taut and blue eyes drawn.

When I noticed Ryland and the others were coming this way, I scrambled to put myself in front of my friends like a shield. “What is he going to do?” I hissed the question, imploring either Jared or Clay for a reply.