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I can do this, Jordan thought as she crouched beneath
the bush.
The werewolf shifted her weight between
all four paws. The breeze wafted the rich scent of deer and the green scent of
oak past her nose. Her focus should have been on the deer grazing in the
meadow. What kept echoing through her mind was the conversation she and
Montgomery had earlier.
“Let me get
this straight, Montgomery,” Jordan had said, arms crossed over her chest. She
shifted her weight mostly to her right leg and tilted her head as she studied
the vampire. “You want me to go out to the middle of the woods so I don’t kill anything, but while I’m
there, I need to kill.”
“Not quite,”
Montgomery said. “It’s a rite
of passage, of sorts.” His lips curled into a half-smile, eyes focused on a
distant memory. “As a stranger joining a pack, you need
to prove you can provide for it. It’s better
you have a few kills under your belt before you have to prove you can do it.” His
smile grew wider. “And no, buying twenty pounds of kibble
at the pet store doesn’t count.”
Jordan snorted. “Why would I want to do that? I’m a chaos wolf. I have no intention of joining the Black
Oak Pack.” Them accepting her after that mess three months ago was an
impossibility anyway. Between dealing with being bitten by a werewolf and
finding out vampires were also real, she hadn’t
been at her most polite. Relations hadn’t improved
since she’d declared she wanted nothing to do
with the pack. She could have handled the situation in a more diplomatic way,
but they were the ones who’d
threatened to kill her.
He’d deflated
some, his focus sharpening on her. “Because someday you may need their help,
and I want you to have the skills to fit in.
Fit in. Jordan huffed her annoyance since her
wolf throat was incapable of human speech. Like she’d
ever fit into the Black Oak Pack.
She eyed the herd of deer grazing in the
middle of the clearing. The eldest doe caught and held her attention. Every
time the deer placed her right hind hoof on the ground, she let out a small
exhale of pain that rang as clear as a dinner bell to Jordan’s
ears. This was her prey for the evening. Jordan adjusted her stance, claws
digging into the crackling, dry leaves.
All five heads snapped up, turning in
her direction. Then they were off in a flash of white tails and black hooves.
Jordan darted out of the bushes, focusing on the limping doe. Her chosen prey
started close to the center of the herd but dropped behind until she was clear
of the other bodies.
Soon the herd had left her behind as
Jordan surged closer, snapping at the flashing legs. The doe twisted, aiming a
vicious kick at her head. Jordan ducked to the right, hooves clipping fur off
her shoulder. She stumbled, allowing her prey to pull a yard ahead of her.
Jordan jerked back toward the deer and leaped. Midair, she shifted, switching
from the pure wolf form to the werewolf. The claws tipping her paw-hands sank
into the doe’s furred shoulders as Jordan landed
on her back. The deer bleated as it tumbled. Jordan rode the animal to the
ground. She slapped a paw over the nose and twisted the doe’s
head to face her. Her jaws closed around the top of the neck. Bones crunched
between her jaws. The doe convulsed beneath her and then went still.
Jordan kept her jaws clamped for a
minute, despite the deer not moving. Then she let go and stepped back, watching
for any rise and fall of the animal’s chest.
The doe lay there, head twisted so it stared upwards at an unnatural angle.
Pride swelled in Jordan’s chest.
She had killed a deer on her own. She’d had no
help, no aid, no pack to assist her. It had been one thing to sneak up on a
rabbit, but this was the first animal over twenty pounds she had managed to
take down on her own. Breathing heavily, she looked over the animal and then
tilted her head back. She drew in a deep breath and let out a long victory
howl.
Something slammed into her chest. She
tumbled head over heels, landing on her back and unable to catch her breath.
Snarls echoed in her ears. Teeth sank into her shoulders and flanks. Claws
raked across her muzzle. She chomped down on a paw, and something yelped. A
clawed foot slammed into her stomach as more bites scored her shoulders. While
her attackers drew blood, they didn’t have the
same ferocity as Rhys, her self-proclaimed mate she’d
rejected. They meant to hurt—but not kill—her.
Then a pair of jaws clamped around her
neck, much like hers had the doe’s. Jordan
went limp, offering no resistance. Her only movement was the rapid rise and
fall of her chest. The scents of several werewolves mingled in the air, scents
she couldn’t separate and identify. Footfalls
thudded on the ground behind her. The only things filling her vision were the
grass the deer had been cropping earlier and wispy edges of white fur out of
the corner of her eye. Then a pair of bare feet stepped into her field of view,
stopping in front of her. “Let her up,” said a deep male voice.
The wolf holding her growled but did not
let go.
“Angela.” The
displeasure was clear in his voice. “Let her up.”
For a second, the pressure of Angela’s jaws increased as if she was about to pop off her head
in defiance. Then the pressure released, and she was let go. Jordan coughed and
rolled onto her belly. She shook her head. A pure white wolf snarled in her
ear, ready to strike. Two other gray-coated wolves flanked her, wearing similar
expressions, although none were growling. But what was in front of her held
most of her attention.
A bare pair of feet had stopped about a
yard from her. Her eyes trailed up his well-formed calves and heavily muscled
thighs. She tried to dart her gaze around his groin—she did not need to know
the details of his anatomy currently on display—but she caught a peek.
Bio: Sheryl R. Hayes can be found untangling plot threads or the yarn her cats have been playing with. In addition to writing, she is a cosplayer focusing on knit and crochet costumes and works full time at a Bay Area water company. You can follow her blog at http://www.sherylrhayes.com, on Twitter at https://www.twitter.com/sherylrhayes, or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/sherylreneehayes.
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