the same night as Warrick… were the two packs working together to bring them down?
Stop thinking. Start fighting.
One of her aunts snarled. To think she had once really enjoyed Aunt Jean’s rabbit stew. A part of her hoped this wasn’t personal, that it stemmed from the mixed-breed child she was carrying, but even that didn’t make her feel any less betrayed.
From years of rich cooking, her aunt had grown a little soft and slow, and Kyla was easily able to get the upper hand on her. By then, a wolf came over, sniffing at her aunt’s heels and attacking her. A foreign wolf, and Kyla hesitated, torn between old loyalties. But then lightning flashed and she spied claws coming toward her, aiming for her stomach, and her mind was made up. Her aunt had chosen her side, and Kyla had hers. While she hoped her aunt wouldn’t die tonight, she couldn’t defend herself and her baby and her aunt.
Kyla swatted back, the sound of claws clashing screeching in her ears almost louder than the roaring thunder. She pressed the attack when pain overwhelmed her, not from an attack, but still, her belly grew hard. A contraction.
A fake one, one to ready her body for the birth in two weeks. Nothing more.
She hoped.
The next one had her doubling over, and the wolf descended on her. She barely had time to maneuver so that his fangs avoided her throat. Another wolf and a coyote approached. She could smell them but only saw them in the flashes of lightning. They attacked together, beating her, aiming blows toward her stomach or her throat and nowhere else.
If they weren’t able to kill her, they were trying to kill the babe instead.
Rage burned within her at the realization, and she fought as if possessed. Claws and teeth and fangs, and then blood filled her mouth. Once the three slightly backed away, she bounded to the nearest car and jumped onto the trunk and then the roof. From there, she surveyed the battleground as best she could.
Devan was fighting a huge wolf and her father, although both of his foes also took turns snapping at each other. Twenty smaller battles were taking place in and about the cars and the street, not all of them involving her people. That was their only saving grace.
A contraction, this one stronger than the others, gripped her so hard she found herself falling. She landed on her paws, but barely, and she was panting heavily. The rest of her body felt numb.
A ring of coyotes and wolves encircled her. Snarling, she forced herself to stand and face them. Then she realized all of them were theirs. Only Devan was missing—still battling the two alphas. Rain drenched her, but her legs felt suddenly too wet for just the storm. That babe. It’s coming. She wouldn’t be able to fight to defend herself.
*
Blood had to coat him more than rainwater. He had felt fangs on him too many times tonight, and once Warrick had even had them on his throat, but Devan had clawed Warrick’s eye. Ever since, his brother had only been able to use his other eye, which meant skewed his depth perception. To combat it, his brother launched twice as many blows, and many still hit their mark, but his teeth never neared Devan’s throat again.
As the battle wore on, Devan’s assumption that Kyla’s father had held back during the other fight proved true. The coyote might be smaller than him, but his reach was decent and the strength of each blow surprised him. Devan held his ground as best he could, but he couldn’t help being annoyed that not one of his wolves or coyotes attempted to help him. This wasn’t a challenge battle. This was war with total annihilation on the line.
But then, during a quick succession of lightning strikes, he spied as sight that left him both infuriated and paralyzed with fear. Kyla lay crumpled in a ball, but at least he had found the rest of their pack. They surrounded her, fighting off their enemies, protecting her, keeping her safe. If he wasn’t so frightened for her, he might’ve felt proud