Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
His scent is still fresh. He cannot go far. He is on foot. He is running in wolf form. He will not be able to evade us for long. We are fresh, and he has been kept in captivity for days.
We run. Once I have taken my wolf form, the rest of the preset pack shift in an instant, torn clothing lying over the ground. That will make Fescue both despair and rejoice at the prospect of mending or replacing it.
We are instantly on the chase. The sound of dozens of wolves running at full speed is a very particular tattoo, and I thrill to it.
I have not given myself permission to become fully animal in a long time, to defend my pack, my territory, and my mate. This may be the worst thing I will ever do, but it is also the most necessary.
Behind us, the last wolves pass the message of the hunt to the ones still at the den. There are more coming. Nobody will be left out of this.
We hunt the way wolves do, settling into a pace while a couple of my faster hunters move forward to push the prey on at a speed that will tire him while I and my main attendants maintain a steady pace that we could keep up for hours if necessary.
When the front runners are tired, they drop back and are replaced with others.
We have not seen him yet, but his scent means that we know precisely where he is. We know when he shifts direction, when he tries to throw us off. He goes through water in an attempt to lose us, but that does not take long for us to unravel as we spread upstream and down until the scent is picked up again, and then a howl brings us all back to the chase, now with our thirsts slaked.
I do not know how long the hunt takes. In this animal body, focused entirely on my quarry, the passing of time is of no concern. I do not feel hunger or fatigue. All I feel is the intense and all-consuming desire to kill.
He can run for a very long time if he wishes, but he will tire eventually. He will not be able to go to ground. He will not be able to throw us off track. These are our lands, and multiple smaller groups of my wolves are even now fanning out, cutting off potential escape routes, and forcing him to take the path that suits us best.
If he’d had any sense, he would never have run. If he’d attacked the doctor and stayed in his human form, we would have to have dealt with him like a human. Law enforcement would have been involved. A custodial sentence. But he let his animal self rule him and now he will die as the beast he is.
* * *
Nicky
The commotion outside my room wakes me up. I don’t know if I was even really sleeping. I had the feeling I was dreaming, but there was nothing in my mind when I opened my eyes and I felt the same exhaustion that has been dogging me for days.
I hear howling and excitement, and something tells me this isn’t a low-level fuss. Throwing off the covers, I go to the doors to ask the guards what’s going on.
But they’re not there.
I’m alone.
Wrapping my dressing gown around me, I walk down the stairs into the main pack space. Everyone has gone. All at once. There are hot coffees still steaming on side tables. Books tossed down with no page markers. There’s a jacket on the floor. Fescue hasn’t picked it up.
Something is wrong.
I keep going down, out into the yard. Again, nobody, though I can hear everyone. I keep moving, and that’s when I see and smell a terrible thing. A handful of medical personnel are working on a couple of wounded people.
That’s why all of this is happening. The medics are medic-ing, and everyone else is giving chase. I see the last few stragglers still here sliding from human to wolf and I follow suit. I don’t want to be left behind in an empty mansion surrounded by blood and medics.
The feeling of joining a pack of running wolves is, I find, like no other. In my wolf form I am much more a creature of instinct than I am at any other time. The exhaustion I’ve been feeling is taken away by the novelty of the chase and the energy of the pack.
I wonder what we’re hunting?
* * *
Rex
The chase comes to its inevitable end at the base of a cliff. Tall rock ranges around in a bowl shape, and we have the exits covered. He is trapped against a sheer face he cannot climb, though he makes a hapless attempt at leaping up.