Of Blood And Lies

A Trap Sprung Shut

{ Avina }

The wolf didn’t jump off. It stayed there, crouched on the hood, massive body blocking the windshield completely. Its lips peeled back, revealing massive canines slick with saliva as it snarled at us—a living barrier between us and any hope of escape. The car was useless now. Trapped. We were completely trapped.

No.

The realization hit like ice water. They weren’t chasing us. They were herding us. This was the trap springing shut.

More movement. Left side. Right side. Branches snapping. The sound of paws hitting dirt. Three more wolves emerged from the undergrowth on both sides of the road, forming a perimeter around us. Two more massive brown wolves, their fur matted with dirt and old blood. And one with lighter fur, almost blonde, its muzzle pulled back in a snarl that revealed teeth designed to tear flesh from bone.

I stopped. Had to. They’d boxed us in. The car was right there, so close I could see my phone still sitting in its dashboard holder, but the wolf on the hood made it impossible. Retreating was no longer an option.

Fight, then.

I lowered the boy carefully to the asphalt, positioning myself between him and the wolves. My breathing steadied. Every nerve in my body shifted from panic to cold calculation. My alpha nature surged, responding to the threat with primal fury even though I couldn’t fully shift. I felt my canines elongate, sharpen. My nails transformed into claws, deadly and ready.

This was all I had. Partial transformation. Claws and teeth against four fully-shifted wolves who could tear me apart if I made one wrong move.

But I’d be damned if I went down without a fight.

Two of the wolves shifted. Bones cracked with sickening pops. Flesh tore and reformed. They stood naked on the road, all muscle and menace and predatory confidence. The first one had dark skin, his body covered in scars that spoke of countless fights. My eyes flicked between them, taking in every detail.

The black serpent tattoo winding up the dark-skinned rogue’s neck. The disciplined way they spread out around us without speaking. The confidence in their posture. The way they watched each other instead of me, communicating through instinct rather than words. Nothing about this was random. These weren’t scavengers looking for an easy meal. They were trained. Coordinated.

Four rogues and a boy.

The Ashmere’s warning slammed into me like a physical blow. This was them. These were Klaus’s men. The ones sent to weaken the Blood King’s bloodline. The ones who’d poisoned him with wolfsbane and hunted him through the forest like prey. And I was standing between them and their target on an empty stretch of highway with no one around to help.

The dark-skinned one smiled. It wasn’t friendly. It was the smile of a predator who knew his prey was cornered.

“Well, well,” he said, voice like gravel scraping concrete. “What do we have here?”

I met his stare. Let my alpha aura flare—what little dominance I could project without a full wolf form. My claws flexed. That was their first warning. Every instinct screamed at me to abandon the kid and run. But I’d already made my choice. And even if I wanted to bolt, they’d never let me.

“Don’t touch him.”

The dark-skinned male’s smile widened, cruel and amused. Behind me, the two brown wolves growled low—one massive and scarred, the other leaner but no less dangerous. The other human male circled to my right, cutting off any escape route.

“Aren’t you bold,” the dark-skinned rogue purred. His gaze dropped to my chest. Lingered. “An alpha female. Rare. What should we do with you, I wonder?” He started getting hard between his legs, stroking himself with deliberate obscenity.

Disgusting.

He moved closer. Slow. Deliberate. Trying to rattle me.

The predatory intent was clear—this wasn’t just about killing the boy anymore. This was about dominance. About reminding me that I was prey, that my partial transformation made me vulnerable against their full wolf forms.

I didn’t flinch.

Behind me, the two brown wolves growled low, their massive bodies coiled and ready to spring. To my right, the blonde inched closer, his eyes tracking my every movement.

The boy’s breathing was shallow, fragile. The wolfsbane was killing him. My fists clenched. Every muscle ready.

“So you’re here to finish him off?” I said, eyes tracking the platinum-haired rogue on my right. “If you think this’ll be easy, you’re wrong.”

“Bold and defiant?” The dark-skinned rogue circled me, forcing me to turn with him. His fingers grazed my waist as he passed—a violation, a test. Cold. Invasive. I tensed but held my ground, my claws flexing. “That’ll get you in trouble, girlie.” His voice dropped. “Considering the boy’s already half-dead from the wolfsbane we fed him…” He stepped over the kid, pressing close behind me. His arousal pressed against my back. His arm snaked around my stomach. “Care for some fun? What do you say? We can make this quick…or we can make it last.”

The threat was clear. Primal. Predatory wolf behavior at its worst—dominance through violation, breaking me before they killed the boy.

“What do I say?” I glanced over my shoulder. Let a soft smile curve my lips. My fingers brushed his wrist, light and warm. His smile widened. Triumphant. “I say…” My hand clamped down. My claws dug in, piercing skin. His smile shattered. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Then my body reacted.

Every ounce of my strength went into a single, devastating thrust as my elbow slammed into his chest. The impact stole the breath from his lungs, a sound like air being ripped from a bellows. He stumbled backward over the boy’s body, and I capitalized on the moment—throwing my shoulder into him, I hurled him over my head in one fluid motion. He hit the asphalt with a bone-jarring crack that vibrated through my heels. His body skidded across the road. His limbs flailed before he crumpled inward, folding into a tight, pathetic ball.

He gasped, each jagged breath a testament to the brutality of the collision.

My eyes snapped to the two brown wolves flanking the other human rogue. They hadn’t moved yet, but their muscles were coiled, ready. Waiting to see if their packmate would rise. Assessing whether I was worth the fight. I held their gaze, my chest heaving, my claws still extended—a clear message written in blood and bone.

“You picked the wrong one,” I warned, my voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding my system. “Walk away now, or I’ll do worse than some broken bones.”

The larger of the two wolves lowered its massive head, ears flattening against its skull. A growl rumbled from deep in its chest—not a warning, but a challenge. It took a deliberate step forward, then another, its body language shifting from cautious to predatory.

“Stupid b***h thinks she can take us,” the remaining human rogue spat, his voice rough with street-hardened contempt. “Klaus ain’t gonna like hearing one of his crew got dropped by some shopkeeper.”

My stomach tightened. Klaus. The name sent ice through my veins, but I couldn’t afford to think about what that meant right now. The wolf’s eyes glinted with something darker than respect. Something that looked like hunger.

Jace’s voice echoed in my memory: When they’re bigger, faster, stronger—you use their momentum against them. Find the weak points. Throat, joints, eyes. Make every move count because you won’t get many.

Here we go again.