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It yelped as it bounced off the trunks. My wolf didn’t let up—she bore down on it, going for the throat, wanting to end this quickly. But the feral hopped to its paws just in time. It was much bigger than I’d thought, towering over my wolf form. It might have been as big as Night’s wolf or even larger. Teeth coated in saliva and flashing white in the sun went for my flank. I tried to hop away, but it was too fast, too desperate. It got hold of fur and muscle and bit down, ripping out a chunk of fur.

I felt my wolf’s rage as powerfully as I felt my own. She rushed again, tackling it. It gnashed its jaws, blood and saliva splattering across my fur. My wolf kept it on its back and avoided those teeth, and when there was an opening, she dived down with deadly intent. Taking hold of the feral’s throat, I bit hard at its windpipe.

The feral held out for a little while, kicking at me, but the fight quickly drained from it as the air left its lungs. In seconds, it lay still. I was more in con