Page 55 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees

Charlotte agreed, but that would require them killing the wolf when it seemed more likely they’d get torn to pieces.

Ares, where are you?

Because she could really use a hero right about now.

Chapter 15

The snowmobiles threatenedto overheat as Ares and Derek pushed the machines to their limits retracing their path. Their trek started out easy, but as the sky darkened, visibility worsened. Swirling snow began to obscure their route, forcing them to slow at certain junctions to ensure they went in the right direction. Ares hated the delay, especially since when they first began racing to the farm, they couldn’t help but notice the tracks overlaying and running parallel to the ones created on their way over.

Once more he couldn’t help but remember that group of sleds on the other side of his property. They had to have seen them go by. Had that been Barry and his pack? It killed to know he might have driven right by them and given them a way to backtrack.

The only thing that kept him somewhat calm was knowing the bunker would keep them safe—as long as they got inside before trouble arrived.

When Derek slowed down, it forced Ares to ease off the gas as well. Before he could shout and ask what was wrong, he saw the problem through the shifting snow. A sled parked across the path, and no one sitting on it.

Derek rolled up slowly and pointed. Two piles of clothes lay draped on the seat. It appeared they’d found part of Barry’s pack.

Danger.

The warning had Ares throwing himself off his sled to the side and landing in the snow. Better a helmeted face plant though snow than the snapping jaws of the wolf that suddenly attacked.

He rolled and bounced to his feet, cursing the fact he wore too many layers. His own beast could have easily taken the one he faced, but he was more likely to get bound up in his borrowed snowsuit than become deadly.

The wolf stood on the seat of his machine and snarled.

Ares flipped up his visor and snarled back, which caused some surprise.

“That’s right, you fucking mongrel. You’re not the only one with teeth around here.”

The wolf lunged, leaping for him, and Ares let the beast hit him, mostly so he could grab it by the forelegs and flip it. The wolf went sailing and yelped as it slammed into a tree.

Bang.

A quick glance over his shoulder showed Derek had the rifle, and while he’d managed to get off a shot, he missed, and the second wolf converged on him too quickly to fire again. He swung the gun like a club, knocking it in the head, but that didn’t stop it from pouncing and taking Derek to the ground.

His friend would have to hold on for help, as Ares had his wolf to deal with. The shaggy mongrel shook its head and bared its teeth but showed more caution, as it prowled and tried to circle.

“I don’t have time for this,” Ares muttered. He grabbed a branch and snapped it free. Not the greatest weapon, but he had nothing else. It hadn’t occurred to him they’d have trouble onthe trail. He should have grabbed the rifle he kept locked in the house or the crossbow in the shed.

The wolf came at a run. Only a few paces separated them. As it leaped, Ares crouched and, as the beast reached the point over his head, thrust upward. The stick didn’t penetrate far, but the wolf squealed.

Blood dripped from the wolf’s wound even before it landed. Bad idea for the mongrel as it shoved the makeshift stake deeper. The wolf whimpered, deadly injured, and it knew it.

One down. He went to help Derek, who held the rifle sideways with a wolf latched to the barrel. Ares would have had to go out of his way for another stick, precious seconds he didn’t have, so he ran instead at the wolf and leaped.

He landed boots first on its spine with enough force something cracked, and the beast dropped. But it didn’t die. It tried to crawl away, using its front paws to pull its paralyzed hindquarters.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ares snarled as he planted himself in front of the wolf.

The wounded wolf changed into a bleeding man, who blubbered, “Don’t kill me.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t.”

“I didn’t want to do this. Barry made us.”

“Where is the fucker?” he asked, glancing at the other body. The one he’d stabbed breathed still, but shallowly. Almost dead.

“He’s gone to get his kid.”