Chapter Seventeen
DYLAN
The wolf, still snarling, pink tongue hanging out of its mouth, began to pace left and right in front of Dylan, as though biding its time. He couldn’t understand it, and thought again about shifting back into a man. He was almost ready when the wolf pounced at him, and dagger-like claws raked across his face before he felt the clench of the wolf’s jaw again, but this time around his own snout.
He bucked backward, lifting up his head, and the wolf with it. He could feel blood streaming out of every hole the wolf’s teeth had made in his flesh, and with the canine still clamped on tightly, he slammed his head downward, head-butting the wolf’s body against the ground.
The wolf, winded and wheezing, scampered backward, but all Dylan saw was red. He charged at the wol
