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62

On instinct, I threw a punch with my right hand. I hit the wolf in the side of its head, and pain exploded in my hand again. The reprieve the aloe had given me disappeared, and a fresh wave of sharp, stabbing soreness stole my breath.

The wolf landed on the cement floor and swiped at my legs. I jumped, and its claws hit the rubber soles of my boots. When I landed, Bodey flashed past me and stabbed the wolf through the back of its head with his dagger.

There was no holding back the vomit now. I turned to my left and emptied my stomach. That was a death like I’d never seen before, and I was certain it would haunt me.

Something behind me clicked, and I knew the moment Bodey retrieved the dagger because the suctioning sound had my tummy roiling again.

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t reach its heart or throat, he linked, his concern flowing through to me. I should’ve gotten to you faster.

He’d just saved me, and he was apologizing because I’d vomited. Add ungrateful to my ever-growing list. You
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