Page 128 of Full Moon
Chapter 56
Feray
They tried to kill Diaval.
The thought alone ignites a fury that surges through every fiber of my being. My wolf and I growl in unison, a low, menacing sound that rumbles from deep within. Without another thought, I take off into the woods, the need to hunt, to unleash this raw energy, driving me forward.
The air is cool against my fur, and the forest blurs past as my paws pound the earth. I know the guys won't let me hunt alone—someone will come after me. It's just a matter of who.
Torben's bear can't keep up with me anymore, not since we left Silver Falls. He tries, but his bulk slows him down. Khal? No, his scales make too much noise, a constant rasp against leaves and rocks that would scare off anything within miles.
I glance over my shoulder, a quick flick of my gaze, and there's Easton, gliding silently through the canopy, his eyes locked on me. Of course it would be him. Ever watchful, ever vigilant. The wind shifts, and a new scent fills my nostrils—sharp and tantalizing. Deer.
My muscles tense as I drop to the ground, ears pricked to catch the faintest sound of hooves on the forest floor. They're close, maybe thirty yards to my left. My eyes fall to my paws, momentarily catching on their size. Dinner plates now, huge and lethal. I'm as tall as Torben's bear, just not as heavy. Compared to the wolves back in Blackmore, I might as well be a bear myself.
I push the thought aside, focusing on the hunt. Two deer. That's what I need, what I want to drag back to the others. I creep along the forest floor, staying low, every movement deliberate, every step silent as I keep myself downwind. The scent grows stronger—the sound of their breathing, the rustle of leaves as they graze.
My muscles coil.
When the moment feels right, I launch from the underbrush. My jaws snap around the first deer's neck, a swift, brutal twist that ends its life in an instant. The second one tries to bolt, but I'm faster, barreling into it with enough force to send it crashing to the ground. Its screams fill the air, a desperate, shrill sound that grates against my ears until I silence it with another snap of my jaws.
I stand over the two bodies, breathing hard. There was a time when deer like these were a threat, when we were nearly the same size. Now, my paw is almost bigger than their heads. At nearly four feet at the shoulder, they seem so small. So fragile. I sink my teeth into their necks, maneuvering them into position where I can drag both behind me. The weight is nothing now, barely a burden as I begin the trek back through the woods.
Dragging the deer through the dense underbrush, my muscles burn with each step, the weight of my kill pulling at every sinew.The scent of my mates catches on the wind, a familiar and comforting presence that drives me forward.
Finally, I reach the clearing and drop the deer, the heavy thud echoing in the quiet. I shift my focus to the smaller deer, sinking my teeth into its neck. With a determined huff, I lift my head high, the scent of blood and earth sharp in my nose as I step out of the wood line.
The clearing comes into view, and my eyes immediately find Diaval, still recovering, his breath labored. I make my way to him, dropping the deer beside him before nudging it closer with my muzzle.Eat,I murmur through our bond, the urgency clear as I turn back to the woods. A few minutes later, I emerge with the second deer. The tension in the air hums like an electric current, making the fur along my spine stand on end.
Easton swoops down from the sky, shifting smoothly beside me. His hand, warm and grounding, rests on my back just behind my shoulders. "Impressive, my flame," he says, pride in his voice.
But my focus is split between him and the growing hunger I sense from the others. It's Khal's gaze that holds my attention. "Precious, where did you find them?" His eyes are dark with hunger, a familiar need simmering beneath the surface. I know that look—he needs to devour an entire deer himself.
My eyes flick to Easton, silently communicating the urgency.Mind explaining?I tilt my head, feeling the volatile energy coursing through me, barely restrained. I can't eat close to them right now—not with this raw edge to my emotions. It's the best way to protect them from whatever dark thing stirs inside me.
Easton, understanding my silent plea, recounts the details of where the herd was last seen. Khal listens intently beforeshifting, his form elongating into his basilisk. He slithers off into the forest, the undergrowth parting before his massive coils.
I take my deer further from the group, finding a spot where the shadows deepen the isolation I need. With a sharp tear, I sink my teeth into the flesh, the taste of blood and sinew igniting something primal within me. I devour the hind legs and back straps first, the richness of the meat disappearing all too quickly.
As the last of my meal slips down my throat, I remember Torben's words about his bear's preferences. I grab what's left—the intact front end and neck, with the bones still firm and satisfying to crunch—and drag it over to him, dropping it at his feet.
Torben's smile is warm. "Thank you, little wolf," he says softly, waiting until I step back before he shifts into his bear form. I turn away, the remnants of my volatile energy slowly ebbing as the sounds of him feeding fill the air behind me.
The day drags on,the weight of uncertainty hanging over us like heavy clouds. Now that everyone has been fed, we gather around what remains of our campsite, taking stock and trying to piece together a plan. My pack left hours ago, heading in the direction we gave them.
My eyes linger on the wreckage of the SUV—a twisted heap of metal and shattered glass. "Driving anywhere is out of the question," Khal says, motioning to the ruined vehicle.
I push away from the tree I've been leaning against. "Not really. There was a car at my parents' farm. If it runs?" I shrug, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's an option."
Khal's eyes flicker with doubt as he glances at Diaval.
"That car has been sitting there twenty-plus years," Diaval says, staring at the clouds. "Besides, if it ran, they wouldn't have had the wagon loaded."
Torben speaks up. "They have a car lot in Redshale. It's where I get my work trucks from. We just have to get there."
Easton pulls out a map, unfolding it on a flat rock. A compass caliper and notebook appear in his hands, his fingers working quickly as he copies the map's scale. The caliper traces the distance, and he writes down the number.
When he hands me the slip of paper, I feel the weight of everyone's eyes as I do the calculations. The numbers are clear, undeniable, settling in my chest like a stone. Sighing, I shake my head.
