3.2 | Killer Instinct

05 | waxen

  

0 5

w a x e n

THEY WERE NOTHING like Diego.

It was true that she'd thought of him as a threat when she first saw him. But he'd been bleeding, mangled, on the brink of death; and the need to help him had surfaced right away.

But these wolves were different – radiating animosity and menace from their snarls that seemed to echo through the deathly quiet of the forest, down to the razor sharp points of their teeth. Their spines were curled in a way that suggested they were about to pounce.

Anytime now.

Argos let out a sharp, cautionary bark, even as he stepped closer to Brooke and she held out a hand to reassure him. But her heart was pounding in fear. Five wolves against – well, one. She and Argos didn't really count.

"Diego," she whispered, staring anxiously at her wolf, wondering if she should just grab both him and Argos and run.

He still stood directly in front of the both of them and nothing about his posture suggested that he was about to back down. Spine arched taut, ears still pricked as he bared his teeth in a clear sign of warning. She noted with a faint rush of confidence that he was larger than the other wolves, but he was injured and they weren't.

She was still hanging onto the thread of that last thought when one of the wolves began to advance forward. Immediately, she took a step back and Argos went rigid beside her. Diego, on the other hand, simply let out a growl that sounded so low and threatening that the other wolf promptly faltered, feet pausing on the sandy path.

And Diego reacted.

With a sudden lunge so swift she barely caught it, he rammed straight into the wolf that had taken a step forward. One vicious bite on the wolf's back sent it tumbling down onto the ground with a horrified yelp. Then he pulled back, keeping an unrelenting paw on the wolf's neck that made it whimper in defeat, and looked at the other wolves.

It was like someone (Diego?) had flipped a switch within them because the change was instantaneous. With lowered heads and tails tucked between their legs in a clear sign of fright, they quickly ran off, disappearing past the bushes behind the trees.

That left the wolf that Diego had pinned to the ground.

Giving one last warning growl, Diego released the wolf and fell a step back. It didn't waste a second scrambling to its feet and rushing off amidst a volley of barks from Argos. Brooke watched in amusement as her dog chased the wolf off past the nearest tree, then returned with his tail wagging in triumph like he'd single-handedly defeated all three wolves on his own.

Brooke blinked and let out a disbelieving laugh.

That was incredible.

Mere minutes ago, it had seemed like she and Argos were this close to being torn apart by vicious wolves. But Diego had chased them off with such proficiency it seemed like he'd done this millions of times before.

It had only been three days with her wolf, but already she felt safer than she'd ever felt in months.

Smiling in relief, Brooke obligingly leaned down to hug a thrilled Argos, rubbing his neck warmly like he'd just fought a huge war and emerged victorious. "You are such a good boy," she cooed, laughing as he burrowed further into her coat with a happy whine.

But she hadn't forgotten about the actual hero of the day, who stood several feet away watching them with sombre dark eyes. Still keeping one arm around Argos, she held out a hand to Diego. He hesitated a second or two before slowly heading towards her, keeping entirely still while she carded her fingers through his grey fur.