small shack.
Her heart willed her to make it there. It was her only chance.
She screamed again when one of the wolves snapped at her, trying to grab her arm. She punched it across the face and kept running, desperate to survive.
A thundering sound joined the cacophony of wolf growls and snarls and her rough breathing. Nika looked ahead of her to see the shack and then a large black horse with rider. She reached out to him, a silent plea for him to help her, and then fell when the wolves pounced on her. Pain erupted in her leg. Her heart missed beats as claws and teeth tore through her clothes.
Her last hope left her when she found herself face to face with the largest wolf. Hot breath washed her face, stealing her own. She sent a prayer to God and stared into the wolf’s yellow eyes, into the eyes of death.
The thundering hooves stopped. Above her the horse’s legs appeared, kicking out as the huge black beast whinnied and snorted. The wolves scattered, leaving her pressed into the dirt and frozen leaf litter, petrified and in too much pain to move.
The horse snorted again as it came down onto all four feet beside her and the rider appeared in her tear-blurred view.
“Hand,” he said in a muffled Russian voice and extended his towards her.
Nika feebly raised hers towards him. She wanted to take hold of that black gloved hand and escape this nightmare. He shook his impatiently. She struggled to move faster, weak from the white-hot pain burning inside every inch of her body. He bent forward on the saddle, caught her hand, and pulled her up into the air as though she weighed nothing. He settled her on the saddle in front of him. Pain shot up her leg and lanced her stomach. It stole her senses, filling them until she knew nothing but the warm pulsing throb. She was vaguely aware of his arm against her back and his hand on her waist, and the wolves closing in.
He turned the horse. Nika gritted her teeth and leaned into him. Each step of the horse’s gallop jostled her on the saddle. The pain was unbearable, wracking her to the depths of her bones with each movement, but the alternative made her cling to consciousness and life. The wolves growled, closer now. The horse suddenly stopped and the man lowered her to the ground. Her legs
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buckled beneath her. He caught her before she could collapse and held her close to his hard chest.
“Run!” he said and she hazily wondered if he was talking to her. She didn’t think that she could run. The pain in her leg was too intense, blinding. The horse whinnied. Was he talking to it?
Her heart beat faster, each pulse sending stabbing needles sweeping around her body. Darkness encroached at the edges of her mind, sending her thoughts fuzzy and her body numb. The man carried her into somewhere and set her down on something soft but lumpy. The sound of wood scraping and heavy objects slamming made her open her eyes. She frowned, vaguely aware that they were in the small shack she had seen and that he was barricading the door.
A wolf howl sounded just outside.
She flinched in pain when she curled up, the wounds on her body stinging. Her left leg burned as though it was on fire. She couldn’t move it. She left it lying limp in front of her. The man looked at her and then around the small hut.
“Do not be frightened,” he said, as though those four words could erase all her fear.
It crushed her chest and stole her breath. She struggled to suck in air, panic closing her throat and pain making the slightest thing too hard. Her leg was wet. She could feel the steady slide of blood down her arms. Oh God. She was going to die.
Her panic only increased when the dreadful sound of claws against wood filled the small shack. Snarls came in under the door and growls made her skin crawl. She tried to back away but the sound surrounded her, leaving her nowhere to go. The man stood at the door, his tall figure a black shadow in the low light. He didn’t move. He stood sentinel with