Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)(29)

"It's okay, baby," he murmured. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

Blaire was crying, and her whole body was shaking. She'd probably never  been in a wreck like this. She smelled like fear, and inside of him Wolf  howled to be released. He was going to rip Rhett's throat out, but  first, he had to take care of his mate.

Her seatbelt was jammed. Too much pressure on it maybe, but he didn't  have time for this. No more hiding his strength from her. Blaire was  about to see the darkness he was capable of anyway. Gentry ripped  through her seatbelt with little effort and cradled her fall so she  wouldn't cut herself on the shattered glass more than she already had.  She had a dozen cuts on her face. Every drop of her blood that spilled,  Gentry would take a hundred more from Rhett.

Blaire's window was crushed into an odd shape they would never escape  from, so Gentry pulled her as carefully as he could toward his side.  Gritting his teeth, he kicked his mangled door open and pulled her from  the wreckage. The scent of smoke, gasoline, blood, and fur filled the  air.

The wolves were still howling, getting closer, closing in, and Gentry  was out of time. He rushed Blaire to the middle of the road and settled  her on her feet. "Nothing's broken?" he asked frantically, gripping her  shoulders, her arms, her ribs.

"N-no. Gentry, what's happening?"

A hunt was happening, but he didn't want to scare her even more. Blaire  was the prey, but the pack would have to go through him to get to her.  "I'm gonna Change." He cast a quick glance at Rhett, who was too fucking  close to his mate now. "I'm gonna Change, and you're gonna run. Run  back to Hunter Cove. I'll cover you."

Blaire's chest was heaving, and she looked around at the moonlit woods, now teaming with the Bone-Ripper Pack. "I'm scared."

"Shhhh," Gentry murmured, cupping her cheeks to drag her attention back  to him. "Look at me. Listen to me. No matter what happens, Wolf will  take care of you." He leaned in and kissed her hard and then ripped  away. "Run, Blaire."





Chapter Seventeen




Gentry was bleeding, cut up bad from the glass. He hadn't protected  himself during the crash, but had thrown his arm over her lap instead  and kept Blaire pinned against the seat. She hadn't even stretched the  seatbelt, and then he'd ripped right through it like he was pulling  apart two paper towels.

Gentry was a lot stronger than she'd realized, but she could see the  wolves, and there were many. Contrasting with the blue moon wilderness  backdrop, most of the predators were differing shades of gray, but two  were black. All had their teeth bared. All had their attention trained  on her and Gentry.                       
       
           



       

How could Wolf protect her from all of these monsters and survive?

Trust me.

His blazing green eyes were begging her trust, and behind him, a  dark-haired man in unlaced boots was striding toward them faster and  faster.

"Run, Blaire," Gentry demanded, his voice gone dead. The look on his  face was terrifying in the moment before he turned away from her and  peeled off his shirt.

"Oh, my gosh," she said in a shaking voice as she bolted in the direction of Hunter Cove.

Nothing hurt yet. Warmth was streaming down her jawline, and she smelled  like pennies, but the adrenaline was covering up the pain right now.  The limp, though … the limp she couldn't help. It was slowing her down.  Gritting her teeth, Blaire pushed herself harder and faster.

Gentry had promised he would get her out of here, but she hadn't missed  it. He hadn't promised he would make it out. If she did just as he said  and was really fast, perhaps he could be okay, too.

Gunfire filled the air, and she ducked with a scream. But when she  turned around, she realized it wasn't guns at all but Gentry's bones  breaking and reshaping in an instant. His charcoal gray wolf shook his  head hard as he charged a big gray wolf with light points. They were a  match in size, both huge.

Blaire kept running as she watched them over her shoulder in horror.  They clashed so hard she felt the powerful vibrations in the air. The  wolves in the woods were following her though, closing in, angling  toward her, and now the leader, a black wolf, was right on the edge of  the road.

One bite and she was dead. They were so fast.

"Gentry!"

And he was there beside her for just a moment before he charged the  black wolf. A gray wolf attacked his back end, and then another joined  the pile. She wanted to scream. She wanted to find a log in the woods  and take it to them all like a baseball bat, but Gentry was the  bone-ripper here. He shredded them, and not one at a time. She'd never  seen such violence in all her life, hadn't realized what the man she  loved was capable of.

His green eyes flashed at her as he slammed the black wolf against a tree in the woods. Run, Blaire.

She pushed her legs even faster, but she was still trailing three  wolves, who were taking their time to attack. It was as if they were  playing with her, or letting her tire herself out. The big gray one  Gentry had fought first was loping along the road beside her, his eyes a  dead and icy blue. His neck was streaming blood, making a trail of red  in the snow, but he didn't seem bothered the injury. Blaire was slipping  where the ice was thick, and it was slowing her down. Her leg was  throbbing, her heartbeat was pounding against her chest, her lungs hurt  from chugging the cold air, and every muscle in her body was twitching  with exhaustion. Behind her, there was a resounding boom, and she ducked  as heat blasted against her skin. A quick glance behind showed Gentry's  truck in flames, lighting up the night.

When she turned back, the big gray wolf was right there. He snapped his  teeth too close to her hand, and she pulled it away just a millisecond  before he broke her skin. Blaire locked her legs against the ice and  skidded onto her backside because there was a line of wolves blocking  the road right in front of her. Her tailbone felt like it had blasted up  into her throat, but there was no time for recovery. She scrambled up  and away from the gray wolf who was herding her into the center of a  loose circle of wolves.

And then Gentry was there, circling her tightly, attention drifting from  one wolf to the other. He tossed back his head and let off a loud howl.  It was short, but so loud it hurt. Blaire hunched her shoulders and  covered her ears as she searched frantically for a hole big enough to  escape through. She hadn't been fast enough, and now she and Gentry were  both easy targets.

He went after a black wolf who drifted too close but didn't engage  before he bolted back to her and placed himself between her and Big  Gray.

Blaire could clearly see the pack dynamics in play. The others were  drawing Gentry away from her one by one, ducking closer and tempting him  to lock onto them, while Big Gray paced closer.

A distant howl rose into the air, followed directly by another, and the  effect on the pack was instant. All heads lifted and drifted in the  direction of the woods where the haunting notes had come from. Ears were  all erect, and Big Gray snarled, baring blood-stained teeth. The woods  were alive with movement and glowing eyes as two monster wolves, much  bigger than the others, sprinted toward them. One was black, but not  like the other wolves. He was demon black with white eyes, while the  other was gray mottled with brown and white with eyes the color of the  sun.

Asher and Roman were here.

Gentry kept his focus on the pack, and when one ducked in with determination, he had no choice but to engage.                       
       
           



       

Big Gray let off a deep bark, and the pack lunged as one for her and  Gentry. Blaire screamed as the two closest wolves' sharp teeth sank into  her jacket and yanked her arm so hard she slammed to the ground. The  sound of snarling was so loud now, and all around her was war. The  Strikers were ripping into the pack with a vengeance, and the snow was  being painted with crimson. But it was the two wolves on her that kept  her attention. Both were a mottled gray color. They would've been  beautiful if not for the horrifying looks of violence on their faces. It  didn't matter that Blaire was fighting and hitting and kicking as hard  and as furiously as she could. Their bites pierced through her clothes,  and the first puncture of teeth was agony. The second was less, and so  were the third and the fourth, and finally the pain ran together until  it dulled suddenly. There was no point in screaming now, so she let the  scratchy sound die in her throat.

Both wolves were ripped off her by Roman and Asher as Gentry battled Big  Gray. The other wolves were scattering into the woods, limping,  bleeding, escaping. The Strikers stood like sentries beside her as her  mate snarled and bit and tore into the alpha of the Bone-Rippers.