The Wolf with the Iron Jaw (Elysium #1)

Chapter One

 She should have killed herself the moment she escaped.

Why couldn't it have been a cloudy morning? If the weather had been dark and dismal, she'd already be finished with this miserable existence, leaving behind everything.

Her name.

Her family.

The sins for which she could never repent.

But no, there had to be a sunrise. Of all the things she had to see after escaping Elysium, why a sunrise? Those blasted, beautiful, vibrant colors that chased away her suicidal intentions and ignited something dangerous inside her heart.

Hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, she could continue living. Hope of a new start here in this strange city where no one knew who she was, where she had come from, or what she had done.

Hope for a future.

You don't deserve a future.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she ignored the voice in her head and continued down the icy street.

That blasted sunrise was gone now. Night had settled in, bringing along with it heavy storm clouds. A bitterly cold wind blew flurries of snow at her face, blinding her as she wandered through the unfamiliar city. The old, worn jacket hanging pathetically from her malnourished shoulders did nothing to protect her from the elements, and her oversized boots rubbed painfully at the blisters on her aching feet.

What a sight she must have been. Such a far cry from the young woman she was—how long ago? Months? Years?

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head and gave a humorless laugh. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Except for death. That's all she wanted now. Death was the only solution.

It had always been the only solution.

But how could she do it? She had no gun. No knife. No buckets of lye water. She could always try to starve herself again. Without the orderlies around to force feeding tubes down her throat, she could surely succeed this time. But that would take days, even in her weakened state.

Another gust of wind bit at her cheeks, and she stumbled towards an alley to escape its assault. Leaning against the entrance, she steadied herself and attempted to find her bearings. If she stayed out in this unforgiving cold much longer, she wouldn't have to worry about picking a way to die; the weather seemed set on ending her itself.

She raised her eyebrows at the thought. Perhaps that was her only option at this point. Freezing to death had to be easier than going days without food. Perhaps if she tucked herself away somewhere and fell asleep, she'd never wake up.

Oh, what a relief that would be.

Peeking into the alleyway before her, she found it littered with garbage and pieces of broken furniture. Maybe not the most ideal place to call her grave, but it was better than Elysium.

Anything was better than Elysium.

Letting out a long plume of breath, she gathered her resolve and stepped inside.

A low growl echoed off the walls.

She froze. Waited. Listened. Had it been real? Or was it her mind playing tricks on her again?

Coward.

Always some excuse not to go through with it.

Just die already.

Pushing the voices aside, she drew her brows together and craned her neck to see further into the alley. It was dark beyond the debris and refuse, but maybe something was hiding—

A snap of teeth and an odd chinking sound sent her reeling back. Heart racing, she balanced herself against the cold brick wall and brushed a tangled strand of hair from her eyes. That had surely been real.

Hadn't it?

The wind blew again, and she stepped aside to shield herself from the snow. In doing so, she allowed the faint light of a nearby gaslamp to illuminate the rubbish that filled the shadowy alleyway.

And the wolf that stood amidst it.

Ears laid flat. Hackles raised. Snarling and baring its teeth.

Its metallic teeth.

Panic clawed at her chest as memories came rushing back. Memories of that night. Of that nightmarish vision. A demonic, wolf-like being trying to rip out her throat. The knife clutched in her hand as she plunged it into the monster.

Again. And again. And again.

And the blood. So much blood. On the knife. On her hands. And pouring from the person she loved more than anything in the world.

Shaking her head, she forced the memory down. No. No, this wasn't the same wolf. This one was different. Perhaps just as monstrous, but still different.

The beast released another growl, and she hesitated, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Or was it all in her mind? And if it was real, was this truly the way to end things? Was she willing to face such a violent death? How badly did she want to die?

The wolf snapped its jaws, the sound of metal against metal echoing through the alley.

Swallowing hard, she squared her shoulders and met the monster's eyes. She didn't deserve to choose the method of her demise. Not after everything she'd done. After everyone she'd hurt.

So, closing her eyes, she took a step forward.

Sharp teeth like knives sank into her leg, and she let out a cry. Stumbling backwards, she lifted her ragged skirt to reveal a gaping wound in her right calf. Blood soaked through her torn stockings and splattered on the snowy ground.

Her gaze flickered to the wolf. Blood dripped from its unnatural teeth, staining the silver fur about its muzzle. She glanced back at her leg and then again at the wolf, still unable to comprehend what had happened.

Was the wound real? It certainly hurt like it was. However, she wouldn't be surprised if her broken psyche was now conjuring up phantom pain. But how could the creature before her exist? How was it not a figment of her sick mind?

Before she could even think of what to do next, someone slipped into the alley and snaked an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. With a slight gasp, she turned to find a handsome young man sporting a classy wool coat and a stylish top hat standing beside her. More striking than his appearance, though, was the expression on his face. It was filled with such glee and excitement that she wondered if he must be mad.

Or real at all.

"My dear, you seem to be in need of some assistance," he said, casting her a glance and a devilish grin.

Unable to form a proper response, she stared at him in bewilderment.

"Though I must say, I marvel at your bravery," he continued. "To approach such a beast as this is quite an act of fearlessness."

He motioned to the wolf, and she followed his gesture. The creature was still there, snarling and baring its metal teeth.

"You can see it, too?" she whispered, both relieved and a bit frightened to discover it was real.

"Oh yes," he said with something like hunger in his voice. "I can see it clear as day."

She furrowed her brow, baffled by his reaction to this bizarre situation. But before she could voice her confusion, the wolf lunged again, and in one quick movement, the stranger pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired. A pathetic cry pierced the night air as the bullet hit the animal's right hind leg, causing it to stumble and fall.

The gunshot echoed through the empty street, and she clung to the young man desperately. Between the cold, the action, and the considerable amount of blood loss, her head was spinning and the world felt as if it were slipping away.

"I think I should warn you," she said to the young man, her grip on his coat tightening, "I believe I am about to faint."

She barely got the words out before everything went black.