38. Briss

When that first Hybrid tackled me to the floor, I assumed that I was dead meat. I could hear the others approaching. Which one would be first to rip my neck out?

It takes two or three regular men to take on a hybrid wolf. But despite the odds, I kept going. If I made myself difficult to kill, it all bought seconds of time for Zena to put more metres between us.

Merged alongside the terror of dying was the tightening of my heart, the clamping of my ribcage as she got away. I had to take that as a good thing. If she had turned round, coming back for me in some deranged attempt to save the day, the pain would lessen.

So I got back on four paws and bared my teeth, jumping at the huge ashy blonde wolf who had taken me down. We rolled together, down a slight hillside, crashing into a fallen tree. The wolf yelped in agony as I used my claws to grip onto its back. In a crazed rodeo, Shi hung on and tore out huge chunks of flesh.

Blood spurted everywhere, soaking my fur, fouling my taste b