Nature is not a place to visit 23

Chapter 23
*“It’s not luck you need, it’s power.”*
*Unknown*
It took us nearly six hours of non-stop running before the border of the Blood Moon pack was visible. The sun had long
since disappeared behind the trees, leaving nothing but the full moon’s light to illuminate the path.
The tiredness didn’t set in until around the fourth hour. By the fifth hour, my muscles were screaming at me. But I knew I
couldn’t stop, not when my pack members’ lives were on the line. I had to keep going for Rae, for Marcus, for all of them.
By the time Luke signaled that we were close enough to stop running, I was about ready to keel over. I had no shame as I
leaned against a large oak tree, gasping for air.
Luke wasn’t much better, bent over with his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.
Ambrose, to no surprise, was perfectly fine. While Luke and I were trying to keep our muscles from turning into jelly,
Ambrose looked as if he’d only just taken a leisurely jog. He wasn’t even breathing heavily as he stood close to me,
patting my hair as I tried to pull some sort of oxygen back into my lungs.
“I…don’t think…I’ve ever,” Luke started, still gasping for breath, “Ran full speed…like that in human form…for so long.”
*At least I’m not the only one who looks out of shape here.*
Fortunately, faster recovery is a perk of being a werewolf. After a few moments of aching, shaky muscles, and short
breaths, both Luke and I were able to pull ourselves together.
“The Blood Moons are only about half a mile north,” Luke said, gesturing deeper into the woods, “But if we go any
farther, I suspect we’ll run into their border patrol.”
Ambrose’s hand traced the side of my face gently. “You two don’t need to go any further,” he said, “I can handle it from
here.”
I whirled on him with raised eyebrows and tried to ignore the way the light of the full moon lit up his olive skin. “You can
‘handle it from here’?” I asked incredulously. “Once again, I’d just like to reiterate that you’re going to be walking into a
pack full of bloodthirsty warriors. And not just ten or twenty of them – at least a hundred.”
As much confidence as Ambrose seemed to have, part of me wasn’t completely convinced. Perhaps it was the mate bond
– the primal urge that I had to make sure he stayed completely safe and sound. Which meant, you know, not letting him
walk into the territory of one of the most dangerous packs alive. Luke and I might not have been much of a calvary, but at
least we could provide some sort of backup.
Ambrose cupped my chin, his multi-colored eyes staring into mine. “I appreciate the concern, little wolf, but I assure you
there’s no reason for it.”
“At least let us come with you,” Luke butted in, “Even if you’re handling the Blood Moons, we still need to find our pack.”
“Luke is right,” I said.
“Alright,” Ambrose finally drawled, still looking at me, “But I expect you to stay by my side. I won’t let anyone touch you.”
There was a rumble in his chest as he said that last part as if he was imagining the thought of someone putting their
hands on me.
I just nodded.
Silence fell over our group as we began moving north in the direction of the Blood Moons. Tension hung in the air –
although most of it felt like it was coming from Luke and I.
This was it.
I was about to walk into the territory of the pack who’d taken my friends, killed my Alpha, and murdered my parents. How much of my life had I spent paralyzed with fear at the thought of the Blood Moons? That one day they’d come back
and wipe out the rest of my pack, Hudson and I included?
*And now I’m walking into their territory like a lamb to the slaughter.*
As if he could sense my uneasiness, Ambrose’s hand found its way into mine and he squeezed gently.
*Hopefully, I’m the lamb walking to the slaughter with the big, bad wolf by my side.*
It was another five minutes of walking before Luke suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes focused on the forest
ahead of us.
“I can smell them,” he suddenly whispered, whipping around to face Ambrose and I. His voice was so low that, even with
my supernatural senses, I barely heard him.
I stiffened.
Luke’s nostrils flared. “I think there’s three –”
Luke never got to finish his sentence. What happened next happened so quickly that I might’ve missed it if I’d blinked.
A large brown wolf suddenly sprung from the trees, headed straight for Luke.
My stomach dropped, but I never got the chance to move. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of two dark blurs
lunging for Ambrose and me.
I didn’t think about my next move, I merely moved on instinct. I jumped in front of Ambrose, poised like some sort of
human shield to protect him. My eyes screwed shut. I waited to feel the excruciating pain of claws ripping through my
skin, of fangs tearing through my neck.
But there was nothing. No pain, no claws, no fangs.
And then I heard screaming.
My eyes shot open.
In the low light of the forest, it took me a moment to find the source of the screaming but when I did, my eyes widened
like saucers.
The three wolves that had tried to lunge at us from the trees were suspended in mid-air, unable to move. My breath
hitched when I realized that they were no longer in their wolf forms, but not totally human either. Instead, it was if they were stuck in the middle of the transition, their fingers partially formed into claws, their limbs still bent into their hind
legs, and fur sprouting from various parts of their bodies. I’d never seen anyone get stuck in transition before, but this…
this looked painful.
They were caught like flies in an imaginary spider web, only able to twitch and scream as they fought against whatever
invisible force kept them stuck in mid-air.
My eyes shot to Luke and Ambrose as I searched for signs of injury, but they were fine. The wolves had never hit their
targets. Luke looked just as shocked as I was. He stumbled back in surprise as stared at the brown wolf who’d tried to kill
him. The brown wolf – now partially a bearded man with brown hair – was no better off than his friends. He was
suspended too, part of his face transformed into the brown muzzle of his wolf form and his hands still brown, furry paws.
And then there was Ambrose.
He had that same blank stare on his face as he stared at our frozen attackers, and my breath hitched when I saw that one
of his arms was raised, his hand bent towards the wolves.
He was the one who’d stopped them. He was the one who kept them three feet off the ground, stuck in the midst of
transition as they screamed.
I opened my mouth to say something – I’m not sure what – when he suddenly moved his other hand in the direction of
the trees behind us. There were two more shouts as two more wolves emerged from the brush, collapsing on the ground
in front of us. This time, I could see the way the transition was forced on them, their fur turning into patches of human
skin, their bones cracking back into human legs.
It was gruesome – the transition was meant to be painless. Not like this.
Then, I heard several loud cracks and the screaming stopped.
The three wolves suspended in the air were flung to the ground, their heads flopped into unnatural positions.
He’d broken their necks – all of them.
For a moment, silence hung over our group.
Then, sounding just as bored as he looked, Ambrose said, “Actually, there were five of them, not three