Mere minutes ago, Belle had been cursing her rickety old car, but now she clung to the insides as if they were her steel fortress. The Lupine she’d seen through the snow was drawing closer, stalking with a certainty that sent chills down her spine.
Then the one wolf was joined by a second, and a third. Then even more came through the snow, eyes fixed on their prey. Like the rest of the magical community, Belle had been taught to fear the Lupine from a young age. They were made up of a mix of cursed men and women. Belle shuddered, knowing that Adam was destined to become one of the violent wolfy castouts in less than half a year’s time.
Belle clung to her useless phone, and then began to rapidly flick through different options in her mind if it should come to hand-to-paw combat. She didn’t think her Pulse would do much good in this situation, since pulsing discernment into the wolves would involve getting near enough for them to bite her.
A flash of hope raced through her mind when she remembered that she’d bought a can of pepper spray that she kept in her purse. She’d purchased it after Sheriff Aston had taken her away for the weekend. She never considered she’d have to use it on oversized wolves. Her fingers were stiff as she fumbled in her suitcase for her purse, praying the can wasn’t frozen.
Belle pursed her lips to hold in a scream when the first wolf launched his body into the window. Another climbed atop the dented hood and began butting his head against her windshield. Belle groaned at the long fissure, courtesy of the car’s crash into the tree. It bespoke of forthcoming doom, and Belle prayed the windshield would hold. Her fingers scrambled against the crack, frantically adding resistance.
More Lupine the size of mid-grown bears joined in their quest to either bust out her window by force, or tip the car over. Belle bit back a scream each time the glass rattled, clutching the pepper spray in her fist and searching the car for anything else that could be used as a weapon. The snow scraper wasn’t as handy as a baseball bat, but Belle refused to go down begging for her life. She would fight for each last breath, and they would get damaged enough in the fray to regret their choice to single her out.
Belle’s eyebrows pulled together as she clung to the wheel to keep her steady as the car rocked. Why were they targeting her? She was no one important in the magical community. Sure, she was one of the few with a degree in the West Village, which was largely illiterate, but that was no reason to illicit an attack.
“Why?” she demanded without a hint of despair. She refused to beg for her life, but she would ask for answers.
No matter what they wanted to say, she wouldn’t be able to understand them anyway.
That’s okay, she thought. I just want them to think it through. Think before killing. If it doesn’t save me, then maybe it’ll get their conscience going, and the next person they go after will be spared.
Belle gripped the snow scraper with trembling and numbing fingers, adrenaline pumping in her veins as the wolves on her hood bashed their thick bodies into the glass. Her head spun as she tried to hold onto lucidity, fighting through her head injury and the cold in her bones to stay in the moment. She prayed her father knew how much she loved him, and that he would remember to take care of himself after she was gone. Her chin trembled when she thought of how quickly he might deteriorate without her.
Each slamming body against her car rocked the metal frame, which oddly erased her fear that much more. It was inevitable now, and she wouldn’t meet her end in tears. She wiped off her icy cheeks and steeled herself against any further woe-is-me sentiments.
The next thud spread the crack on her windshield to the very edge, and she knew she was almost out of time. She made eye contact with the creature on the hood, her mouth in a tight line to let him know that she wasn’t about to cower.
The wolf on her hood was gray with patches of black throughout his snowy fur. He had several scars marring his maw, no doubt from throwing himself into unnecessary fights like this one. He snarled at her, crouched down with his hindquarters raised, and geared up for the final push. Belle knew she should shield her eyes from the possibility of shattered glass, but she couldn’t look away. They could take her life, but she wouldn’t forfeit her grit to the beasts.
The wolf slammed his body into her windshield one final time, and finally crashed through, his neck bleeding as his jaws snapped. His back legs were still on the hood as his body thrashed and fought to make the hole bigger.
Belle couldn’t help the scream that erupted from her as she cracked the wolf across the face over and over again with her snow scraper, and then used the sharp end to jab at the monster’s eyes. Soon the wolf’s cries were joining hers, floating out into the air in hopes the snow would carry the sound away.
Suddenly a loud bang shot through the snow, drowning her cry of distress. The wolf yelped in agony, and then seconds later, went limp.
“Belle, hold tight! I’m coming!” Adam called to her through the blizzard.
She couldn’t see him, only the wolf that was now dead, slumped halfway through her windshield. “Adam, run!” she warned, worried when the wolves on the sides of her car were no longer focused on rocking her vehicle.
Another shot blasted through the snow, and another. Belle was frantic, worried that he would get hurt coming to rescue her. She knew she couldn’t have that on her conscience. Despite the fact that she was wearing thin scrubs under her worn jacket and didn’t have proper snow boots on, she flung herself out of the car the moment she was able to kick herself free from the jarred steely frame that had bent from the crash. Belle ambled through the two-foot deep snow, calling out to Adam so he didn’t shoot her in all the confusion.
The wolves were moving toward his tall figure, and though she couldn’t make out the details of his features, she could see the gun in his grip that aimed and took fire again and again, dropping the Lupine that had haunted his nights for months.
Adam kept firing until the bullets ran out. Then the wolves took their opportunity and charged him, not bothering to strike for a kill, but sinking their sharp teeth into his skin just to hear him howl. Adam’s roar thrust Belle forward through the snow until she was able to crack one of the four remaining wolves over the head with her snow scraper. It was plastic and not all that heavy, but the sharp end used for breaking off ice from a windshield cut one of the wolves on the back of the skull, drawing blood that brought Belle a small burst of satisfaction.
“Run, Belle!” Adam growled.
But Belle knew there was no way he could make it to safety like this. His thigh was badly bleeding, and the wolves were taking as many bites from his arms as they could. It was clear they didn’t want to kill him, but punish him and remind him that they owned his future, and he certainly wouldn’t be anywhere near the ranks of the alpha in their tribe.
That was when she heard him. Though she had only the basic knowledge of wolves and Lupine culture, it was rumored that when you heard the howl of the alpha, you knew it. The baritone bark was elongated, so it sounded more like a foghorn than a call from an actual animal.
The wolves all turned their heads in the direction of the call, some of them lowering their haunches to submit to the voice, though Belle still couldn’t see the head wolf through the thick curtains of snow.
The low-toned call of the alpha shook Belle’s trembling bones with a power she didn’t understand, and instinctively feared. The wolves looked at each other, as if deciding via pack-speak whether they should continue their assault on Adam, or go to the alpha. When a few turned back to Adam, Belle knew it was all about to go south.
Belle took her window of opportunity and stumbled forward, unleashing her pepper spray on the wolves, aiming downward so she didn’t blast Adam in the face. Their growls quickly turned to whimpers of agony as they fell away – all but one, who rammed into her, knocking the can from her hand as she fell backwards in the snow.
The last determined wolf who wasn’t writhing in the snow from the pain of the mace kept his maw firmly latched onto Adam’s forearm. Belle scrambled to her feet, picked up the nearest weapon and whapped him hard on the back of the head with the snow scraper, but he still didn’t let go. It wasn’t until Adam’s growls of fury mutated to pain that Belle let loose her stored-up scream that was laced with fear and frustration.
The scraper wasn’t enough to break Adam free of the last wolf’s determined attack, so Belle cast her snow scraper aside, knowing there was a chance the wolf might be powerful enough to send them both into an early grave. Trumping all logic and self-preservation, Belle pummeled the wolf, finally breaking the hold he had on Adam’s arm.
The wolf was too turned around to shift his attack onto her, which gave Belle just enough of an advantage to scramble in the snow to retrieve her second weapon. She gritted her teeth and turned her chin as she blasted him directly in the eyeballs with a spray from her icy can of mace.
The wolf yelped and scrambled away, licking his wounds with the others as they scampered and limped off into the woods, leaving their dead behind for the snow to bury.
Belle indulged in little more than a breath of victory before she turned to Adam, who was bleeding too much to tough it out.
“Belle,” he rasped, and her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. His chest was moving up and down in heavy pants, but he was upright…
Until he wasn’t.
Adam collapsed with a gust into the snow, taking Belle’s screams as the last sound he heard before unconsciousness claimed him.