The scent of my brother's blood is all that fills my mind as my teeth snap towards Mark. My senses are so sharp it feels almost like I can see Mark. I can hear every footfall, every breath, and every heartbeat with surgical precision. The scent of Frankie's blood wafting with every one of Mark's breaths makes my instincts scream for death.
At the very moment I smelled Frankie's blood mixed with Mark's sickly stench, every rational thought fled my mind. I felt all the years of rage being filed down to a single, sharp, knife-like point. Which I'll use to put Mark into the fucking ground.
He tries his best to fight back, clawing and biting at every opening, but I can barely feel it. Adrenaline rushes through my veins like glacial melt, dulling everything except the opponent before me and how best to make him bleed. My teeth gnash, snarls tearing through me with every exhale. I won't stop until Mark lies dead at my feet.
Mark backs away and circles around me. My ears follow his every movement, zeroing in on the snow crunching beneath his paws. I can hear a slight hesitation before he decides to pounce, and I move just slightly to the side. As he passes in front of me, I get my teeth into one of his hind legs and throw him to the ground. My jaws clamp down, his blood filling my mouth but doing little to quell the call of death inside me. I shake my head, shredding his flesh with my teeth. His other leg kicks uselessly until it catches me on the side of the head and pushes me off, a little bit of fur and sinew coming with me.
The hit to my head disorients me, but only for a moment. It's enough time for that sniveling fucking weasel to get back onto his feet and begin to limp away. I snarl and bark at him, furious that he's trying to run away before I can rip his throat out. As I lift my foot to give chase, the sound of choked gasping pierces through the fog of rage clouding my mind.
Frankie is back there, hurt and maybe even afraid. My baby brother. I can't leave him. He needs me. I don't even know how badly he's hurt. The scent of his blood is growing thicker in the air and when I set my foot down, it takes me in the opposite direction from where Mark is fleeing. Frankie needs me.
I can barely smell Eve with him through all the blood. So much blood. It clogs my sinuses and fills my lungs. That pit in my stomach is threatening to swallow me whole. Frankie's heartbeat is growing weak, and I can hear an off-putting rattling in his chest. When I stop beside Eve, she presses her face into my fur, and I can finally smell the salty tears tainting her scent.
"Ray," Frankie gasps.
Nudging his face with my nose, I whine deep in my chest. Despair wraps around me, crushing my ribcage and making it difficult to breathe. How could this happen? My baby brother was never supposed to get hurt. I never should have fucking let him stay here with us. I should've just manned up and gone to stay with the Scotts and dragged Frankie along with me.
In the distance, there's the shrill sound of sirens. I desperately want them to make it here in time to save Frankie, but his heartbeat is stuttering, struggling to pump with so little blood left. I feel it soaking into the fur of my underbelly. All I can do is rest my head on his chest and listen to the fading beat of his heart.
"Ray, I need you to know something." Frankie's words slur together. "Even though you're annoying as fuck, you're the best big brother a guy could ask for."
I absorb his every word even though I wish I could make him fucking stop. I don't want to say goodbye, not like this. It should be when we're both grumpy old bastards. Frankie has barely gotten to live his life, spending so many years looking after me. And what did I ever do to thank him? Got the one thing he always wanted and brought him to an untimely end.
"I love you, Ray."
Frankie's heart flutters and with one final exhale, it all stops.
The wailing of the sirens grows closer, the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires joining it, but everything feels like it's still. This can't possibly happen. The first time that little shit tells me he loves me since he was four years old and it's with his final breath. He can't do that. He's my baby brother. On the day Mom brought him home from the hospital, I promised that I'd always protect him and Joey. No matter what happened, I was going to protect them.
YOU ARE READING
Wayward Wolf
Romansa(Book 3 of The Scott Family Series) Evelyn Scott has put off starting a family for years so she could pursue her life's passion, becoming a midwife. Recently starting a job at a women's clinic, she's starting to realize just how lonely her life is b...
