Rabid (Kingdom of Wolves #6) - Ivy Asher Page 0,44
that strikes through me, looking around as though someone might be watching and will come in at any moment to destroy the progress I’m making.
Yet nothing happens, so I keep working, wishing again that my wolf’s fangs would drop to help me tear through this thick binding. But no matter how much I plead, I can’t get her to half-shift. My eyes bounce around the waning light, the oppressive night closing in. Shadows and darkness will help my wolf and me as we run for our lives, but that ominous warning the males were talking about still blares through my head.
If she can run, she’ll have a fighting chance.
My wolf and I can do this. We will run and we will escape. We have to, because I don’t want to find out what happens tonight if we don’t.
Chapter Nine
It’s amazing what my newly shifted body can do.
Now that I have my wolf, so much is different. My heightened senses, the overall feeling that I’m complete, my ability to shift...and how quickly I can heal.
The spots of skin that were raw and bruised from the snare and the chained cuffs are nearly cleared up. My joints no longer ache or sport rings of scraped off skin. The food and water replenished me too. By the time the sun dips down, leaving me bathed in shadows, my teeth finally saw through the last of the thick rope, lips rubbed raw, gums aching.
I yank free with an internal whoop of victory and then press my face against the slats of the shed, watching. Everything outside is already pressed with darkness, even the windows of the cabin lack any light shining through. They probably don’t even have electricity, I think to myself. When I’ve ensured that all is still and quiet, I straighten up and pull on the door, already knowing it won’t open. I test its strength anyway, but considering the state of this place, the lock and door are both shockingly sturdy.
“Dammit,” I whisper beneath my breath, head whipping around the shed. No window or hanging tools are in here, but my steps hurry toward the tarps bunched up in the corner. All I find is an empty paint can, a plastic dustpan, and a bag of soil. Hissing beneath my breath, I drop to my knees and yank the tarps away in frustration. “No, no, there’s gotta be something else…”
Frantically, I search every corner, and I’m just about to grab the paint can and start slamming it into the walls when a glint of silver catches my eye. Rushing over, I grab the screwdriver out of the edges of the folded tarp where it was hiding and hold it up like I’ve just managed to yank Excalibur free from its rock.
I waste no time, because I ran out of that as soon as the sun went down. Using my wolf’s superior sight, I whirl around, searching for the weakest-looking wooden plank in this place. They’re wide and rough, and if I can just get one loose…
Spotting a round hole in the natural wood, I bustle over to it, kneeling down. Shoving the screwdriver into the weak spot, the metal end wedging against the hole in the plank, I pull with all my might, using it like a crowbar to yank the piece free.
With every inch that the wood loosens, I tug the screwdriver out before thrusting it right back in and doing it again and again and again. I manage to pry it away from the rest of the wall enough to get a grip on it, and I drop my tool, curling my fingers around the side of the plank to pull as hard as I can.
Splinters of dry wood cut into my skin, but I ignore the pricks of pain. I thank the wolf spirits that this shed was built so rudimentary and that no other layers are in my way. With gritted teeth and planted feet, I use all of my body strength instead of just relying on my arms. Holding my breath, I pull as hard as I can, cursing the wood in my head with silent threats if it doesn’t fucking give—
With a snap, the board flies free, rusted nails nearly catching me in the face. My fingertips throb as I scrabble for the plank next to it, but it’s already weakened, already lost its support, and it comes free with an angry squeak of a nail.