Free Blood Bond by Heather Hildenbrand

space was too small. I couldn’t get
enough elbow room to really do any damage with my branch. Beside
me, Cambria dodged a mouth full of teeth. As it spun to keep her in
its sights, drool flew from the wolf’s tongue and landed on my
arm.
    On my other side, Cord staked one but it
wasn’t deep enough to entirely stop the thing. The yellow in its
eyes only intensified at the injury. Bright red blood dripped from
the open wound. Beyond each of them were the boys, a blur of fur
and gnashing teeth. They moved so fast I couldn’t tell who was who,
except for Bailey. His vanilla coat stood out against the myriad of
browns that surrounded him. Every few seconds I’d catch a glimpse
of russet fur—Wes—right smack dab in the middle of the chaos. From
inside the nucleus of the fighting, someone yelped. Then the growls
took over again.
    I forced myself to focus on the enemy in
front of me—an even skinnier, snakelike version of the leader, with
eyes to match.
    “If you don’t work for Miles,” I said,
alternating between swings and dodges, “then who?”
    Instead of answering, the Werewolf continued
his attack. My feet moved in an endless loop: forward, backward,
regroup. Over and over, neither of us gaining ground against the
other. My swings were too limited to penetrate. I needed more
space. And the smell up-close, the overbearing stench of Werewolf
breath, made my stomach turn. To make it worse, I sensed the part
of me that wanted to shift struggling to get closer to the surface.
I couldn’t let that happen.
    A hole opened up ahead, a break in furry
bodies. If I could get through without drawing attention, maybe
only one or two would follow. It would give me room to maneuver and
it would give me fresh air to breathe. The scent of wolf strained
my senses. My skin tightened and shrank, like any moment I might
push through and emerge as something else, something not human.
    I went for it.
    I slashed out as far as my arm would reach,
driving my opponent back with my elbow, and prayed it was enough.
Then, I ran.
    “Where are you going?” Cambria yelled.
    A few furry heads turned. So much for not
drawing attention.
    “I need more room,” I yelled back, dodging
trees.
    I didn’t stop until I’d put some distance
behind me. I found a relatively open space, planted my feet, and
whirled to face whatever followed me out. A wolf—a different one
than before—slammed into me, driving me back. I quick-stepped
sideways to stay on my feet and shoved him down. As his
needle-sharp claws dug in, my pants—and my flesh—unzipped as he
swiped down my thighs.
    I repositioned the branch in my hand and
shoved it up and in. The wolf’s flesh gave with a sickening slurp.
I pushed again and its body went slack. Its claws retracted and it
slid into a heap on the ground. I yanked the branch free and danced
out of the way to avoid going down with it. Its form blurred around
the edges and I waited to see if it would shift back to human or
stay this way.
    My own body shook with it, a strange sort of
shivering where I imagined my soul detaching itself from my
insides. The woods around me dimmed as if someone had turned down
the light switch and the sound faded out. My lungs squeezed
shut.
    I let out a ragged, choking sound as I
gasped for air and all at once everything rushed back. Air whooshed
into my lungs so quickly I gagged, and the sound returned with a
roar in my ears. I shook my head to clear my vision as my eyes
refocused on the scene around me.
    I caught movement and looked up. Two more
Werewolves approached. These were playing it cool, slowly stalking
me. They obviously thought their friend would take me down without
needing their help. The look in their eyes said they weren’t
disappointed they were getting a shot. Their yellow pupils glowed
as they crept closer.
    My fingers tightened around the branch in my
hand. It dripped with blood, thick and slow to fall. I could see it
out of the corner of my eye. I could smell it too.
    My