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Isaiah jerked the steering wheel. The truck spun, and the bed collided with the cur, tossing it into the trees. Isaiah hit the gas. Ruts, gaps, holes knocked the pickup back and forth.

The cur reappeared in the rearview. It would only take seconds before it caught up. Isaiah slammed on the breaks, shifted into reverse. The cur dug its feet into the ground, but before it could stop, the tailgate slammed into its face. Momentum tossed it head over paws. The deep thud of its body echoed through the truck frame, and the roof of the cab buckled.

It bounced off, landing on its side, blocking the path. Bones jutted from under its black fur, and its jaw dangled from its skull. The cur staggered to its feet, wounds stitching as fast as it regained its balance.

A crack of thunder cut the air and its neck shredded. Tanner rushed from the bushes and yanked open the passenger side door.

He climbed in. “What the hell?”

Isaiah put the truck in gear. “Not now.” The shocks on the truck protested with each dip of the hood. Another quarter mile and the ground smoothed out enough for the vehicle to pick up speed.

Caspin had done the impossible. Phasing without contact with his wolf? It was unheard of. And if Luca had somehow tapped into theSuvar, Isaiah would have felt it. So whatever had reconnected Caspin to his Fenrir went against the laws of the tie.

Tanner spoke, but it was lost under the boom of the exploding passenger window. Isaiah fought the steering, trying to keep control of the sliding truck while the cur bulldozed it off the road.

The truck's rear dropped into the culvert and the tires spun, spitting up wads of mud.

Metal screamed, and the vehicle rocked. Two more curs landed in the bed.

“Fuck.” Tanner stuck the shotgun out the window and fired.

The cur pushing the vehicle flew back, thrashing on the ground.

“Run, I’ll distract them.” Tanner fought with the door.

“Don’t be stupid.”

Tanner might have been stronger than a human, but he wouldn’t get a couple hundred feet before they ran him down.

One of the curs in the back leapt onto the hood, punching holes into the dented metal. Isaiah turned the steering wheel in the other direction, letting gravity pull them farther off the road. He just needed a little speed and for the tires to catch.

The truck rolled backward. “Come on. Come on.” He gave it some gas.

The cur on the roof moved to the hood as if confused as to where its prey had disappeared.

But then curs weren’t known for being smart.

Just as the cur turned, the truck lurched forward, and the creature lost its balance. It hit the windshield, cracks spider-webbed across the surface, and it fell away. Isaiah used the momentum to climb the incline at an angle.

The cur he’d knocked off the hood met the truck as it made it to the road, and the creature still in the back rammed the rear glass. Tanner turned, shoving the barrel of the shotgun into its gaping mouth and pulled the trigger. The cur in the road charged.

Caspin ripped through the trees, colliding with the animal and then pinning it to the ground.

“What the ever-living fuck—” Tanner stared wide-eyed at the White Wolf as it shredded the smaller cur.

As quick as the wolf appeared, it was gone again. To fight off more curs or escape? Isaiah had no idea. He took the gravel path to the main road. Tanner sat turned in his seat, staring at the way they’d fled.

Vibrations rattled the beat-to-hell truck and wind cooled the blood soaking Isaiah’s back.

Tanner looked at Isaiah. So much hope, want, sadness, shadowed his gaze. When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Caspin has his wolf back.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“I have no idea.” Tears blurred Isaiah’s vision. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. “But we’ll find out.” Somehow, some way.

For all of them.


Tags: Adrienne Wilder Wolves Incarnate Fantasy