Chapter 22
I recognized Jacob, not by sight or scent but by his terrified drumming. He lay on his back, sides heaving and neck c****d in submission. But his hind leg kicked at the air in grim imitation of a belly-rubbed canine’s rapturous twitch.
Why grim? Because the snow around him was dark with blood while a black-furred wolf growled warning. Jacob’s comeuppance wasn’t over. If I wasn’t much mistaken, it had only just begun.
That’s all I saw before I dove toward my student. Claw was fast approaching, slowed only by the necessity of hiding from tourists who couldn’t see a wolf wearing a backpack. Pack bonds informed me that Harry was also nearby
I should have waited for backup. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. Jacob was injured, and he was our pack mate.
I was thirty feet from the black wolf
