Fangs of Fire

Teeth in the Mist

Riley was officially done with werewolves. Her arms ached from swinging the tire iron, her boots were soaked from ravine mud, and her lungs burned like she’d chain-smoked a pack of Marlboros. The pack fanned out ahead, Kade’s broad back a dark silhouette against the mist, but the trembling ground under her feet screamed trouble. That claw-on-wood scrape wasn’t her imagination it was a promise. And it was keeping it.

“Kade!” she hissed, skidding to a stop. “Something’s ”

The rogue burst from the ravine like a goddamn horror movie jump scare bigger, uglier, and flanked by two smaller wolves, their fur patchy and eyes wild. The pack froze, then erupted, wolves shifting mid-stride as howls shredded the night. Riley’s stomach dropped. Three against a dozen should’ve been easy, but these things moved like nightmares fast, feral, coordinated.

“Get back!” Kade roared, shoving her toward a boulder. He shifted in a blur black fur, amber eyes and met the lead rogue head-on, claws slashing. Mara and the others dove in, a chaos of snarls and blood, but the smaller wolves split off, circling Riley.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered, gripping her tire iron. She wasn’t a fighter her last brawl was a bar scuffle over a jukebox but she’d be damned if she went down without a swing. The first rogue lunged, jaws gaping, and she ducked, slamming the iron into its ribs. It yelped, staggering, but the second one pounced, knocking her flat. Claws raked her jacket, shredding the sleeve, and she kicked, hard, catching its snout.

“Riley!” Kade’s voice cut through, human again he’d shifted back mid-fight, blood streaming from a gash on his shoulder. He tackled the wolf off her, pinning it with a knee and snapping its neck with a sickening crunch. He was half-naked now, jeans torn, chest heaving, and for a split second, Riley’s brain blanked. Sweat-slicked muscle, tattoos curling over his pecs focus, i***t.

She scrambled up, tire iron swinging at the first rogue as it recovered. “Stay down, Fleabag!” The hit landed square on its skull, and it crumpled. She panted, adrenaline buzzing, as Kade hauled her behind the boulder.

“You okay?” His hands gripped her shoulders, rough but warm, eyes searching her face. Blood smeared his cheek, and his breath was hot against her skin too close, too fast.

“Yeah,” she rasped, shoving him off before her brain melted. “Just peachy. You?”

He smirked, wincing as he flexed his shoulder. “Been worse.”

The fight raged beyond the boulder Mara’s red wolf form tore into one of the smaller rogues, but the lead beast was a juggernaut, tossing pack members like toys. Kade cursed, starting to shift again, but Riley grabbed his arm. “Wait! They’re after me, right? Use me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Not a chance.”

“Shut up and listen!” She pointed at the ravine’s edge, where a rusted cable hung from an old mining rig. “I can rig a trap drop that cable on it. You just keep it busy.”

Kade stared, then nodded, sharp. “Don’t die, sparkplug.”

“Same to you, Fido.” She darted for the cable, heart pounding. The pack was faltering two wolves down, blood pooling in the dirt. She climbed the rig’s frame, hands slipping on cold metal, and yanked the cable loose, looping it into a makeshift noose. Below, Kade roared, human again, baiting the rogue with a taunt: “Come on, you mangy bastard!”

It worked. The beast charged, and Riley dropped the cable perfect timing. It snagged the rogue’s legs, yanking it off-balance, and Kade pounced, driving a jagged branch through its chest. It thrashed, gurgling, then went still. The smaller rogues bolted, vanishing into the mist.

Riley slid down, landing hard beside Kade. He was panting, bloodied, and way too close his bare torso inches from her, heat radiating like a furnace. “Nice trick,” he said, voice low, rough.

“Mechanic’s touch.” She smirked, but her breath hitched as he leaned in, wiping mud off her cheek with his thumb. His touch lingered, calluses brushing her skin, and her pulse kicked into overdrive. His eyes amber, molten locked on hers, and for a dumb, reckless second, she thought he might kiss her. Wanted him to. His lips parted, a growl rumbling deep in his chest

Mara’s snarl shattered it. “Kade, it’s not over.” She stormed up, naked from shifting, glaring daggers at Riley. “Look.”

Riley followed her gaze. The rogue’s corpse twitched, then stilled but carved into its flank, fresh and deliberate, were claw marks forming words: Blood Unbinds.

“What the hell?” Riley whispered, stepping back. “Is it… talking?”

Kade’s face darkened, wiping the moment between them clean. “It’s a message. Old pack lore cursed wolves leave signs.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her close, voice tight. “Your blood, Riley. It’s tied to this.”

“My blood?” She yanked free, laughing, sharp and nervous. “I’m human, not a magic potion. What’s next, I’m the chosen one?”

“No.” His stare was intense, unnerving. “But you’re not just bait anymore. You’re the key.”

“Key to what?” She clutched her tire iron, the pack closing in, eyes glinting with suspicion. Mara’s claws flexed, and Riley’s gut twisted. “You’re all nuts.”

“Maybe.” Kade’s hand brushed her arm again, steadying her despite the chaos. “But you’re stuck with us now.”

Before she could snap back, a new sound cut through a low, guttural chant, echoing from the ravine. Not a howl. Words. Human words, warped and ancient. The pack froze, fur bristling, and Kade’s grip tightened, his breath hot on her neck.

“Run,” he said, shoving her toward the trees. “Now.”

But the mist thickened, and shapes emerged tall, cloaked, eyes glowing like the rogues’. Not wolves. Some

thing worse. And they were chanting her name.