Adele
An animal-like snarl comes from behind me. I hear the rip of clothing, and then a huge wolf leaps at Dieter, knocking him to the ground.
Rafe? I whirl to look behind me. His clothes lay in tatters in the snow.
Rafe is a wolf.
Rafe. Is a wolf.
In some kind of supernatural blast, the wolf gets thrown backward off Dieter, and the man scrambles to his feet.
The wolf’s fur is pitch black with a few orangey brown markings on the tips of its ears. It surges to its feet, teeth bared. Its canines are like steak knives.
A half roar, half growl rumbles out of it, and my bones turn liquid. Even though I know it’s Rafe, I scramble back, my legs threatening to give way.
I must make a disbelieving squeak because the wolf swivels its huge head and looks at me.
“Hold, wolf,” Dieter says in a
