Page 33 of Rabid
“What the hell?”
My wolf’s eyes roll up at the intruder who’s threatening her meal, and her stance instantly changes. She tenses over the food that she’s deemed is hers, even though it’s nothing more than bones now, and her lips peel back at the females striding forward. One has strawberry blonde hair, like it can’t decide if it wants to be pink or orange in the sunlight. With a round face, tinged lips, and high cheekbones, she’s pretty, and clearly prettypissed.
My wolf feels like she could take her, and maybe she’s right, but what she doesn’t seem to understand is we can’t take them all—and where you find one angry wolf, there’s always more.
“Is this the new one everybody’s talking about?” the other female says. She has dark skin and short straight hair pulled back tight against her scalp. Both of them are dressed in sewn scraps of animal hide, with straps around their chests and knee-length skirts hanging from their hips.
“Who are you, bitch?” Strawberry demands.
My wolf peels back her lips and growls low in warning. This sets the females off, who both immediately go tense, their own wolves sending out answering snarls from their throats.
“You think you can come here onourland and stealmyfucking kill?” Strawberry shakes her head, eyes gone dark with threat. “I will mangle you worse than that stolen meat at your paws.”
The menace that’s crawling out from the female’s rough voice doesn’t impress my wolf. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I don’t stop this, she’ll attack, and our unhinged state will take over. Regardless of how ready my wolf is to tear into this female, I know better. Which is why, with everything I have, I shove my beast down and force back control.
With loud pops, I yank her inside of me, my bones twinging, skin stretching as I take over. Breathing hard from the shift, I manage to stand tall in front of the females. “I’m sorry, I was starving,” I explain. “We haven’t eaten regularly in…well, in a while, and I couldn’t get her to stop.”
My stomach rumbles loudly as though everything I just ate wasn’t nearly enough. Growing up, my old alpha would wait to eat if there were wolves around that were in more desperate need of food. All of that changed when Burke showed up, but I remember the way it used to be. Judging by the look on Strawberry’s face, this ruthless pack also has no place for empathy or understanding.
“I’m Seneca,” I offer, in hopes this female sees me as a person and not some outside enemy that needs to be immediately reported to their heinous alpha. I don’t even want to know what punishments are standard in a place like this. “I’ll talk to my wolf about—”
“I don’t give two fucks who you are,” Strawberry snaps. “There are rules about stealing food. Do you want what I lost to come out of your hide?” she threatens, not an ounce of compassion in her eyes or her tone as she rakes her dark green eyes over my naked body as though she’s repulsed.
“Presley, chill. You can have some of mine. You heard Terris talking about where they found her and how. I mean, look at her, she clearly needs it,” the other female declares dismissively.
“I don’t want yours, Vera. I want what’s rightfullymine,” Presley snarls as though I’ve caused her some greater injury beyond stealing a little food. “I don’t give a crap how fucked up she is. It’s the way of the pack, and you know it.”
Vera shoots Strawberry a glare and shakes her head. “She’s not even pack yet, Pres. You know she’s not held accountable until she is.”
Presley’s eyes fix on the bite on my shoulder, and it’s all I can do not to cover it up with my hand and fidget guiltily. I know I can’t show any doubt or shame, despite how much I might be feeling it.
She sneers at me as she cocks a hip. “From the look of her, she’ssomething. If she can spread her thighs for pack, then she can learn some damn manners,” Presley growls out, and I work to shut down my wolf as she tries to rise and answer the challenge in Strawberry’s cold gaze.
“Then take it up with whoever claimed her,” a tall, rail-thin woman declares as she walks up. Her hair and eyes are the exact same shade of wet oak, and there’s a vicious scar displayed on her neck. I stare at it for a beat, unable to stop myself. It looks as though she’s had her throat ripped out and survived it.
I stave off a shudder as I take in the healed injury, and then I snap myself out of the rude perusal and look up at her eyes. The female’s brown gaze widens slightly as it lands on my surveying stare. Confusion once again trickles through me, wondering what it is that she’s seeing in my eyes that’s set her off. I look over at Vera, and although her gaze isn’t fixed on the ground, she’s sure as hell not looking right at me. If I were actually part of their pack, I would take the lack of eye contact as respect and submission, but I’m not, and this feels...off. Like they’re too uneasy to look me in the eye.
Presley, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have any issue staring me down, although her annoyed glare is now fixed on the thin newcomer.
“She’s fresh meat, and the pack says whatever she screws up in the first month is the responsibility of whoever claimed her. Go whine to them,” the new female states as she meets Presley’s glare with one of her own.
“Who is your mate?” Vera asks me, her face kind, even though her eyes won’t meet mine.
A tic starts in my jaw as I battle the embarrassment and frustration that wants to climb up my neck and settle in my cheeks. Presley starts to laugh, the sound mean and callous. My eyes harden despite the humiliation falling like a stone in my stomach.
“Look at her, the bitch doesn’t even know who claimed her!” she taunts maliciously, eyes flicking away. “You know what that’s like, don’t you, Harlan?” she jibes, her spiteful gaze once again settling on the lean, brown-haired woman.
Harlan’s lips peel back as a snarl bleeds out of her, but a loud howl interrupts whatever it is she’s about to say, and I go rigid at the noise. All at once, the open space starts to fill with members of the Ruin Falls pack. I have no idea where they all flood in from, but suddenly, there are people and wolves alike all trickling in from the surrounding homes and bounding out from the bordering treeline.
At first, I think it’s the call of the dinner bell so to speak, but the bodies ignore the food roasting around the fires and start moving as a whole toward the large house bordering the lake. The females who caught me stealing are bickering, and I take the opportunity to try and disappear into the gathering crowd.
I’m acutely aware of my bare body as I weave through the pack. I feel eyes on me, drinking their fill, and I hate it. On the fringes of the gathering, I see other wolves shifting and joining in on whatever is going on, and although they’re sans clothes too, it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I still feel vulnerable, exposed.
The number of wolves around me grows denser, and panic claws through me, driving me to get out from the center. How long will it take for them to notice I’m not one of them? What will they do to a stranger in their midst?
I push my way to the outskirts, but I’m only able to make it to the side with the pack houses behind it. I lope with the crowd, looking between the cabins for any path that leads to freedom. Unfortunately, they all back up to a decent-sized mountain, so unless I’m going hiking naked again, there’s no getting away in that direction. I know my wolf could probably make quick work of that incline, her color would even make the climb inconspicuous, but she’s proven she can’t be trusted.
