The Shadow Alpha

Chapter 13: Grieving In the Trees

River

         I break through the trees just in time to see the battlefield that is now before me: the massive cedar tree that was our project for the day now lies in the middle of the clearing, forgotten in the midst of the fight.

           There are wolves colliding all around me, the sound similar to that of two boulders crashing together. Teeth and claws are slicing through the air, blood decorating the coats of many wolves and the ground beneath them.

         I can see Tyler and Drake teaming up and fighting three at once on the far end of the clearing.

            I growl and set off, sprinting towards the three attackers that have red zigzag shapes etched into their coats. I leap over the three opposing wolves, aiming for the one in the middle as I sail overhead. I time it just right, closing my jaw around its neck and snapping it instantly, throwing it over my shoulder as I land on the other side.

            The two opponents that are left take notice of me, but that's all they have the chance to do before Tyler and Drake go in for the kill; the brief moment of distraction I created was all they needed.

            I scan the rest of the clearing, counting ten attackers and seven Shadows, now including me.

            Where the fuck did they come from?

            I ask furiously.

           They came out of the woods from the North. We think they must have swam up the river to avoid detection—we wouldn't have smelled them; it's outside our boundaries.

         Drake tells me, and I lunge toward another attacker advancing on us, and sink my teeth into its shoulder. He wails out in pain as I toss him behind me.

        Keep that one alive for questioning. I need to know how and why they're here.

       I turn back to the fight, seeing Desmond—the young fifteen-year-old who can track like no other—struggling against a much larger orange coloured wolf.

      I set off towards him, feeling as though I cannot close the distance between us fast enough.

       The orange wolf snaps at Desmond's legs and manages to take hold of his front left one and clamp down. Desmond yelps out in pain, a sickening snap sounding from his now fractured leg. He collapses down onto the ground just as I reach him.

       I waste no time in slamming into the orange wolf, sending it flying through the air, landing thirty feet away from us in a heap of dirt and dust.

      You okay kid?

      Desmond stands, but immediately limps and takes his weight from his front leg. It should start healing soon enough, but it is surely broken.

      I'm good, don't worry about me. Five minutes and I'll be good as new.

      I look back to see the orange wolf has gathered herself up off the forest floor, and her eyes narrow in on me with distaste. I quickly do a count on us: we're down to six attackers now.

      Where's Lucas?

       I scan the area for the younger grey wolf—he's a good woodworker, he has been learning the craft over the years from his dad. The kid is only nineteen. Then my eyes fall upon him, seeing his motionless, eerily still form crumbled below the fallen cedar tree. Blood coats the bark of the tree directly above him, an obvious sign he was wounded badly and slid down against it.