Call of the Wild

11 - The Confrontation

I race like the wolves are biting at my heels— not giving myself time to think, to consider, to do anything but run.

My scent will be stronger as a wolf than as a human. I make no effort to mask my trail as I dart through shrubs and leap over fallen logs. Leave shudder in my wake. I weave back and forth, back and forth, laying my scent thickly all over the woods. Hoping it'll be enough to draw them my way.

I'm hoping to lose myself to my instincts, to race for freedom and leave all thoughts behind me. Mason has given me a head-start and I cannot waste it.

So I run. And I run. On and on. Minutes slide away, my muscles burn with strain as I force myself onwards. My pack will catch my scent and follow me— I'm certain of it. They will not stop, so neither can I.

Against my will, thoughts trickle through my mind; shards of memories. I think of the past few days. The Call of the Wild, Kain's lifeless body, the blood in my fur. The car, the crash, the agony. Mason. Robin. Seeing me shift. Helping me instead of running. Taking me from my demons.

Mason's words echo like a broken record. I'd never run. Not from you.

And I think of him driving back all alone, the echo of my scent on his passenger seat, the echo of my kiss on his skin. Heading straight for the wolf pack hell-bent on chasing me down and killing me. They'll smell me all over his car.

Ice shards explode in my veins.

And I skid to a stop.

Fuck.

So much for taking the danger away from him. He's going to drive right back into the thick of it.

I've condemned him to save myself.

Without pause, I throw my head back and howl— a long, loud noise that echoes in the trees and startles birds to flight. A call to order, a demand. If they're within range, they'll know I'm not with Mason. They'll leave him alone and race straight for me.

Though I cannot be sure they heard me. I cannot be sure where they are.

It's funny— right now, if I'd never met Mason, I would be racing as far away from danger as possible. Never giving it a chance to catch me off-guard.

And yet, the mere thought of the boy that was so devoted to keeping me safe driving straight into an ambush leaves no question in my mind.

I'd never run. Not from you.

So I turn and race back the way I came. Heading towards my pack, not away from them. barking all the way. Calling out to them. Demanding they meet my challenge.

I won't leave Mason to that fate. Not when he could have easily left me to bleed out on the side of the road. He didn't. He chose to help me. And now I need to repay that favour. I owe him that, at the very least.

Feeling suddenly invigorated, I tear down the wall between me and my pack— the mental block I threw up so hastily in my retreat on the night of the Call.

At once, I'm drowned in a sea of fury.

Where are you, coward?

It's Axel. Kain's beta and the wolf most determined to avenge his fallen brother. Hell, if he had his way, he would've killed Kain himself to gain his title. Shifter politics is messy, that way. Your ally could be the one holding a dagger to your side, whispering half-truths into your ear. His fury is a thick, dark thing. A rolling fog in my thoughts that tugs insistently at my willpower, demanding I cower and bare my throat and let him kill me.

I force out my own wave of strength, and of challenge. It's a ripple in the storm-ridden sea dragging me under. A snarl tears from my throat.

I'm coming for you.