The growl came again, louder, and right behind me. I remained on the grass near the raging river, trembling. No mistake—the sound belonged to a wolf.

If I jumped back into the water and fell down the waterfall, it might be easier than being mauled.

Ice hardened in my chest. Breathing was close to impossible. I climbed to my feet slowly, all the while tracing the ground with my fingers until I touched a rock. With it clasped in my fist, I rose and twisted around.

The shaking wouldn’t stop as I stared into the eyes of a wolf at least thirty feet away with steel-colored fur. The animal reached my waist and had seen better days. His coat was thin and hung loose on his frame. Just my luck, he saw me as an easy meal, and hunger would make him unstoppable.

One stone was useless against him.

“I’m not food. I barely have any muscle on my bones.” I sidestepped, figuring I could make a run for the woods and climb a tree. What other choices did I have?

When the wolf crept closer, he growled once again, his ears flattened against his large head.

I shuffled sideways, angling away and stealing glances toward the forest. A small tree with low-hanging branches was doable because I wasn’t becoming anyone’s lunch now or ever.

But from within the folds of the woodland, three silhouettes emerged, and I shuddered. Wolves trotted out in perfect unison as if they were warriors. One was black with cream paws, another gray sporting whitish stripes across the chest, and the third was pure white like fresh snow. They were half a foot taller than the creature between us. Shifters?

Perspiration rolled down my spine, and the thump of my heart vibrated in my ears. I squeezed the stone in my hand, fingers digging into the hard surface. How was I supposed to defeat all four of them?

Panic churned my stomach into cramps. Before I could make sense of what to do next, I turned and bolted. All the rational reasons fell out of my head.

A strangled cry poured from my mouth.

Heavy breaths were right behind me, paw pads hitting the soil.

I ran faster than I thought possible along the river’s edge. The cool air slapped my skin, pulling at my hair, choking me.

Bursting into the forest, I pounded the ground, foliage snapping and crackling.

Death. Not for me. Please, not for me.

A cacophony of snarls and grunts detonated behind me. I glanced back to see the three wolves in a brawl. Were they deciding which one got to devour me? But the white one thundered close to me, leaping over foliage.

I sprinted faster, ducking under branches and crushing bushes. Twigs scratched my face and arms. Everything hurt.

Something moved in my peripheral vision. I looked over, and my gut plummeted.

The white wolf lunged in huge strides alongside me, a few paces away. His head twisted in my direction, teeth exposed.

I threw my rock at him but struck a trunk instead. Damn.

Pushing my legs, I raced straight ahead and grabbed a low branch, then swung my legs up.

But something snatched my pants, ripping me back down, and my grip slipped. I screamed, grasping for the branch.

Instead, I crashed to the forest floor, landing on my butt and scrambling backward.

My life whirled through my mind. How little I’d done with the store, how I’d stayed in the woods as my safe zone, never leaving Terra. Bee had traveled to other lands. I followed the rules. Now I’d get eaten and no one would even know.

The white wolf stood his ground, while two of his friends gaited down the hill toward us. What happened to the first wolf? They’d defeated him to win the prize… me? The gray one tilted his head to the side, studying me, and trotted forward. Was he the alpha?

My feet itched, and I fought the impulse to jump up and sprint away, but how far would I get?

I shifted to move past the tree at my back, but my backpack snagged on a root. And that reminded me of my citrus spray. I shook the bag off my shoulders and slid a hand inside. All three wolves watched me. Were they thinking I had a snack? The apple in the bag wouldn’t sate these beasts. I wrapped my fingers around the small bottle with a cork top and took it out.

The gray wolf snarled, snapping its jaws inches from me.

I yelped and flinched sideways. “Okay, look. If you plan on eating me, then do it already, but clearly, you haven’t yet…” I gulped and met his gaze when something shifted behind his eyes. He shook his head and released a low grumble as if trying to communicate. That prompted my next words. “Are you all shifters? And if that’s the case, well, you are being super rude by not welcoming me to your land.” My rambling came from the panic slithering up my back, and I tucked my bent knees up against my stomach.

Silence swept between us, well, aside from the rustling leaves and gurgling river. What were the wolves waiting for? Were they trying to give me a hypnotic stare? Because it wasn’t working.

A deep rumble came from the black wolf. Was it telling the others to attack?

When all of them followed suit and let out deep growls, I tensed and gasped for air.

Be brave, my little girl—Grandma’s favorite saying. So I readied to fight to the end and balled my hands into fists.

Gray Wolf twitched and charged.

Lightning fast, I scrambled backward and flung out my hand holding the bottle. But a wolfsbane root had wrapped itself around the broken cork top. Fumbling, I dropped my bag and the cork popped off, and the entire contents splashed outward, striking the gray wolf in the face. I threw the bottle at him.

He groaned with obvious pain and recoiled, shaking his head.

Mist danced in the air from my spray, and the black wolf sneezed, while the white one stumbled about.

On my feet, I spun and ran.

Heaviness slammed onto my back. My scream tore through my body like blades. I bucked and squirmed for purchase out from under his weight.

I shook, expecting fangs to dig into the back of my neck. I cried out, fingers grasping for anything.

But instead of biting me, the white wolf leaped off and seized my ankle. A primeval instinct took over, and I kicked his face. His lips peeled back with a threat.

I gritted my teeth, my breaths fast and loud.

“Help!” I ripped at plants, scratching my fingernails into the soil.

He hauled me like a trophy prize. When another wolf snatched my other leg, I writhed and bellowed. The gray wolf trotted alongside me, still shaking his head, and his eyes had turned red… must have been from my potion.

“Please,” I pleaded. “I’ll give you anything you want; just let me go.” I seized a fist-sized rock when the big alpha snapped in my face, his bloody breath washing across me. Bloodshot eyes glared at me, and he kept squinting tight and shaking his head. But before I could toss the rock away, the wolf head-butted me. My vision blurred, fading to blackness, and the last thing I heard was a threatening growl.

* * *

A door slapped shut, and I opened my eyes. I glanced up at a ceiling in a dimly-lit room, a fire crackling nearby, its warmth cocooning me. Now this was the life… sleeping next to a fire at home. Wait! I didn’t have a fireplace in my bedroom, and a tidal wave of memories crashed through me. Me heading into the woods for wolfsbane, the priestess replanting wolfsbane in our neighboring land, and wolves attacking me. Even Mr. No Pants popped in there, reminding me of his warning about the wolves at war, and I’d gloriously gotten myself caught by a pack.

The earlier jitters swarmed through me, and I scrambled off a long table, my lower back stiff, hoping to avoid making a sound. Darn, the wolves had me lying there like a roast so they could just sit down and devour their dinner. I patted myself and glanced down. Yep, still wearing clothes, but they were dry now. How long had I been out?

A throbbing ache settled across my temple, and I rubbed the lump on my head from where the wolf had knocked me out.

The room lay barren of decorations. It consisted of wooden walls and a ceiling. There was only the table in the middle, and a torn-up rug covered the hardwood in front of the fire; someone had scratched their claws on the frayed edges. No windows, just a closed door. And a strange musty and wet dog fur smell hung in the air.

My mind failed to make sense of where I was, and I couldn’t formulate a thought. I turned on the spot, not recognizing anything. I froze, yet tingles pressed on my body to run, to put distance between me and the wolves. I choked the breath from my lungs and tightness clasped my gut. Time to leave. I retreated toward the door, but my foot hit something. I flinched and looked down, but I’d just bumped into a stack of logs for the fireplace. No sentimental objects sat on the mantelpiece behind me or paintings to indicate who owned the place. If this was a wolf shifter’s home, then crap. Everything I’d heard about them painted them as savages who lived off the land and who followed their alpha to the death if he asked it of them. Except here I was in a house that had required someone to build it. Unless the shifters kidnapped people to do their bidding? That notion sank through me like tar.

I rushed across the room, desperate to get out of this house.

But the door flung open, hitting the wall, a flurry of cold air colliding into me.

My heart struck my throat, and I staggered backward as a man strode into the room. At first, my gaze bounced from his bare feet to his naked torso, to the chiseled specimen standing before me. Why hadn’t anyone told me shifters were gods in appearance? If I’d known, I may have stumbled into their territory before.

I glanced behind down a long corridor with wooden walls and several doors. This cabin was a lot larger than I had first thought. What were in the other rooms?

Then my gaze fastened on the red strip of fabric the guy wore as a skirt to cover his privates. So familiar. Near the bunched-up fabric at his hip, there was a small sigil of a black moon crest. Just like the one grandma had sewn on her hooded cloak. I scratched my neck, reaching for mine, but the cloak was gone. I scanned the room behind me. My bag sat in a corner alone. The wolves must have collected it after I’d dropped it in the woods. A sweet gesture and maybe not all hope was lost for me surviving the day.

I swung back around to the man dressed in part of my cloak. Fire hit my cheeks, and I stormed closer, but he kicked the door shut, closing us inside together.

But right then I didn’t care, not when an inferno burned me up from my toes to my head.

“How dare you?” I said, snatching the fabric off him. It unraveled at my touch. “You tore my cloak? How could you?” My eyes watered as I stared at the flowing red material in my hands. Hollowness spread throughout my chest because I’d taken such good care of Grandma’s garment.

“My grandmother gave me this,” I said, wondering if I could sew it back onto the rest of the cloak, except it would never be the same. I wiped my cheeks and raised my chin, staring at the man’s bangs, the color of cocoa, sweeping across his brow. Short hair edged along the sides of his head and the back. He studied me with softness in his eyes as if pitying me. And only then did I realize the impact of me stripping him, and I burned for a whole different reason.

Oh, dear. His girth had my knees quivering beneath me.

Okay, I’d had one boyfriend before, but he was normal-sized… Actually, non-existent in the downstairs department in comparison.

The shifter laughed, his earlier stiff expression relaxed and unrestrained.

I lifted my gaze, convinced I’d turned into a berry in color. “What’s going on? Why were you wearing my cloak and where am I? Where are your clothes?”

The man closed the distance between us, and I recoiled, gripping the fabric. Despite fear clouding my head, butterflies twirled in my stomach from imagining myself touching the muscled curves of his chest. He carried a beauty about him with his small nose and boyish charm. He wasn’t built huge, but he had muscles and lots of them. His cheekbones brought out his glimmering eyes. The fire reflected in his pupils, flicking this way and that, changing the colors from a gray to a grassy hue. If I’d crossed paths with him anywhere else, I’d have stopped in my tracks and gawked. Now I wasn’t sure if I should run or chat him up.

“You need not fear me,” he said, his voice honeyed and low with a trace of huskiness. The complete opposite of what I’d expected.

“I beg to diff.” I squared my shoulders to look bigger, though I couldn’t achieve anywhere near the height of the stranger who towered over me. “Are you the shifter who rough handled me outside and head-butted me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in an arrogant triumph, and he ran a hand through his short hair, drawing my attention to his flexing bicep.

“We prefer to call ourselves ‘hunters.’ ‘Shifter’ is such a human word, referring to anything that takes animal form.”

“So you were the gray wolf?” My voice dipped.

“No, I’m not gray. That’s Dagen.”

I nodded, chewing on my cheek. Dagen. Must be the alpha? “So, what will you do with me? Can I leave?” Though the idea of returning home knotted my thoughts thanks to the situation with the priestess. What was worse? Facing off against shif… hunters, or an angry leader? Not sure yet.

“Call me ‘Nero.’ And well,”—he licked his lips like a starved wolf who hadn’t eaten for a week—“we have a slight problem.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t liking where this was going, and I didn’t like being stuck in a house with Nero—and who knew where the other wolves lingered? Was their “slight problem” an inability to decide which one should tear me to shreds first? But Grandma had taught me to show no fear because sometimes wearing confidence scared away the enemy. I tucked part of her cloak into my back pocket.

I straightened my posture and approached the man, my sights on the door. “Well, good luck with your problem, and thanks for not eating me. But I must go.”

Despite sweat dripping down my back, I kept my composure together and passed Nero. Every nerve crackled. The door was in sight, and I reached for the handle.

Nero leaned a shoulder against the door. He yawned as if this were a game… and what if it was?

I tugged on the doorknob with no luck.

“Little lamb, you’re not going anywhere.”