The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,173

“They can be ferocious when they need to be, but they also take care of each other, and I like that.”

Blaine grunted but said nothing more.

“My father’s nickname during the Winter War was Giovanni the Wolf,” said Sonya. “I suppose because he had a reputation for being a vicious and crafty commander. But the man I knew was fiercely protective of his family—his pack—above all else. So I guess I also like wolves because they remind me of him.”

Blaine eyed her curiously. “You don’t talk about yer father much.”

“Yeah. We didn’t really get along, especially as I got older. We argued a lot. My mom said it’s because we’re so much alike, but I don’t see it.”

Then a long, chilling howl rose up behind them. It was followed shortly by another howl a short distance in front of them.

“Huh,” said Sonya.

Blaine’s hand went immediately back to his sword. “I thought you said they’d keep their distance.”

“Yeah…” She frowned. “It sounds like they’re surrounding us, but that doesn’t make sense.”

“Surrounding us?” Blaine drew his two-handed sword. His eyes darted around, as if trying to see in multiple directions at once.

“But we must be in Andre and Tatiana’s hunting territory by now. I suppose this pack might have migrated here with the thaw and the Rangers haven’t gotten around to clearing them out yet…” That didn’t seem likely. Andre in particular had seemed extremely territorial. But Sonya couldn’t think of any other reason that a pack of wolves would infringe on Ranger hunting grounds.

When the wolves came into view, Sonya saw that it was a surprisingly large pack for spring. Twenty wolves with muddy white fur had spread out so that they completely encircled Sonya and Blaine. They slowly tightened the circle, their movements cautious, as if unsure of the strength of their prey. Their lips were curled back to reveal sharp teeth, and the sound of their low, rumbling growls filled the air.

Blaine nervously adjusted his grip on his sword, muttering quietly to himself in the Uaine language. His face had gone ashen and sweat ran from his forehead into his scruffy beard. He really didn’t like wolves. The problem was, his fear was obvious. The wolves had already smelled it and now they could see it.

“Calm down and listen to me a moment.” She kept her eyes on the wolves as she unslung her bow and nocked an arrow. “Wolves aren’t stupid. They won’t go after difficult prey unless they’re desperate, and these wolves do not look like they’re starving. So all we have to do is show them we’re too much trouble, and they’ll give up. Probably.”

“Probably?”

Blaine did not look like he was calming down. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve as he watched them continue to slowly tighten their circle.

“Can’t you just shoot them before they get close?” he asked.

“All twenty? When they have us completely surrounded? Not even I’m that fast. But when they go for you—”

“Why would they go for me?”

“Because wolves are attracted to weaker animals, and your fear is a sign of weakness to them.”

“I’m not afraid!” he said sharply.

Sonya wasn’t buying it.

The wolves had gotten as close as they deemed safe, and were now beginning to rotate their circle, paws squishing in the muddy ground, yellow eyes all fixed on Blaine. He began muttering in Uaine again.

“What is it with you and wolves, anyway?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke it seemed to take a great deal of effort. “When I was a wee boy, I watched me mother get torn apart by a pack of wolves.”

“Oh,” she said. “That would explain it.”

“Aye,” he said grimly.

One of the larger wolves lunged toward Blaine. Fear must have stiffened his muscles because he took a surprisingly clumsy swing with his sword. The wolf had only feinted its attack anyway, and easily avoided him. That opened Blaine up to another wolf, who went for his haunches.

That was a classic wolf pack tactic, of course, so Sonya had expected it. The wolf fell into the mud with a splash, still several feet from Blaine’s rear end, an arrow buried in its eye.

The wolves went back to circling, no doubt a little more cautious now that one was dead. They continued to growl, and it felt as if they were debating among themselves whether the risk was worth it. Sonya suspected if she immediately shot a few more, they might scatter. But she was reluctant to do so.