Then I heard a deep, maddening, and fiery growl. This time it was coming from behind me. I immediately stopped in my tracks, fear penetrating through me. Hesitantly, I turned.
Between the heavy-falling snow appeared a ghastly sight—four pairs of gray, beastly eyes.
I’d never been so close to wolves as I was now—not even in a zoo with a steel cage between us.
The wolves crept closer. I could see their wet noses and the breath coming from their snouts. They licked their lips.
Terror shot through me like piercing icicles. I quietly positioned my cell phone. Finally. A connection! My fingers shaking, I began to press the number nine. Then I managed to press the number one.
The leader of the pack growled, exposing his white fangs and black gums. Another wolf barked. Startled, I flinched. The phone fell into the snow.
I learned in Health and Safety class that in the unlikely event that a person encountered a wolf, the person should try to make themselves appear bigger. I stood on my tiptoes, which was difficult to do in the piling snow and my bulky, furry boots, and raised my hands in the air.
“Help!” I called. “Please, someone—help!”
I took a few steps backward, making sure I didn’t turn my back on them. They paced back and forth, watching.
My arms became heavy; I couldn’t keep them up much longer. I hummed a sweet tune to myself, hoping it would relax me and the wolves.
There was a break in the overcast sky. The full moon peeked out. Celestial and glowing, it radiated its magnificent brilliance as if it were trying to comfort me. But I was far from comforted.
The wolves weren’t budging, and my circulation was draining out from my fingertips. It would only be moments until I’d have to bring down my arms, and then I knew they’d surely attack.
I felt a presence behind me and my breath stopped. Just like that, I was surrounded. I was frozen with fear, my heart pounding, my fingers still shaking, my lips quivering. I closed my eyes and began to pray. I wondered how my parents would find me—if they’d even find me. I imagined Ivy and Abby spending the next three years shopping without me and Nash finding comfort in someone else’s arms. And I realized that in my seventeen years I hadn’t experienced the one thing that had always eluded me—true love.
Then whatever that presence was jumped out from behind me. I covered my head and screamed.
I heard a lot of scuffling, growling, and howling. It took a few moments for me to even realize I wasn’t in any physical pain. Was I already dead?
I peeked out from my defenses. I saw a figure holding a large tree branch.
The figure swung at the pack with the branch, running and chasing after the wolves. Growling and the horrible sounds of a struggle raged just beyond my sight. I prayed the man was okay, but I wasn’t sure what was happening just a few yards away in the heavy snow. I heard a crunch, then a male voice yell. All at once, there was a smack and the sound of yelping. Then there was dead silence.
I didn’t know if the person was alive. I didn’t hear the wolves. I didn’t hear the man.
I waited. I wondered if I should call out to him, but I was afraid this might excite the wolves if they were still there. I didn’t know what to do next.
When I didn’t hear a sound, I knew I had to do something. I decided to go farther into the woods and see what had happened. I was terrified of what I might find.
Just then, the figure emerged from behind a tree. The guy was alive, out of breath, and exhausted. The snow fell heavily, blocking me from seeing my rescuer. Then, all at once, striking blue eyes shone through the snow. I was even more shocked . . . it was Brandon Maddox.
I was so happy to see someone that I threw my hands up and cheered.
Brandon had been fighting the wolf pack with all his strength. The falling snow made it hard to see, the woods made it hard to navigate through, and the cold temperature made it hard to breathe.
I’d always thought Brandon was handsome, but now he looked even more magnificent.
“Are you . . . okay?” It was the first thing he asked.
“Am I okay? I wasn’t the one fighting a pack of wolves.”
Brandon tossed the branch into the woods. It was then a few dark red drops fell into the lily white snow.
“You’re bleeding!” I said, pointing to the red stains.
“What?” He didn’t even look at his hand. “What are you doing . . . here?” he asked. He was still running on adrenaline.
“You’ve been hurt,” I said. “We should get you to a doctor.”
He raised his hand. Drops continued to fall into the snow.
“You need to have that looked at,” I said. “You might need stitches.”
“It’s nothing,” he said.