Just as Willow believed her plan to defeat Lowell was succeeding, he swiftly regained the upper hand, shattering her hopes in an instant. Despite the pain, she tucked her legs beneath her body and positioned her free front foot on Willow's back.
Her heart skipped a beat, recognizing the catastrophic backfire of her strategy. She had unwittingly presented Lowell with her vulnerable neck. The price she would pay for this ill-conceived maneuver was likely her life. This time, escape was no longer an option if Lowell intended to kill her.
The ebony-furred wolf sank his teeth into Willow's neck as anticipated, but his grip lacked the intent to kill, evident in its loose hold. It became clear that Lowell's objective was not her demise; he merely sought her submission, a demand Willow staunchly refused to fulfill.
Resolute in her decision to fight until the bitter end, even if it meant death, Willow sank her jaws with all her might into Lowell's leg, relishing the taste of the blood that seeped from the wound. Her action dared Lowell to end her life, should he desire her surrender.
Yet, Lowell merely growled and tightened his grip around her neck, cutting off her air supply. It was evident that he could endure the pain, but time was running out for Willow. Without immediate action, she would soon lose consciousness. She needed to make him feel a semblance of her pain.
Summoning her strength, she raised her right leg and clawed at Lowell's face, targeting his eyes. The grip around her neck weakened, affirming the effectiveness of her attack. Seizing the opportunity, Willow scrambled to her feet, using the top of her head to deliver a powerful blow to Lowell's lower jaw, propelling teeth from her mouth. She had to act swiftly.
With a leap, Willow mounted Lowell, preparing to make her escape. However, her attention was drawn to a ladder propped against the wall, alongside horizontal support beams where additional boards were stored. A new plan materialized in her mind.
Lowell shifted back into his human form and moved the ladder, positioning it on one of the nearby beams. Hastily ascending, he reached the top with all possible speed. Although the ladder appeared frail under his weight, it miraculously held. Once on the support beam, he kicked the ladder down, rendering it useless and leaving Lowell unable to pursue her.
Though a small victory against her adversary, Willow seized the moment to catch her breath. Peering down at Lowell, still recovering from the impactful blow that had evidently caused him considerable pain, she noticed him gaze up at her. Swiftly, he transformed back into his human form.
An amused smile played on her lips. "You're clever, yet incredibly foolish, Lowell. Now you're trapped down there," she taunted, maintaining a piercing gaze with her amber eyes as she paced below. "You're akin to a plump chicken in a henhouse, defenseless against a fox. And we both know who that fox is."
Willow's grin widened. "Well, you're down there, and I'm up here, so I'm not concerned about the fox."
Lowell's smile broadened. "Is that so?"
Lowering himself into a crouch, Lowell leaped, grasping hold of one of the horizontal beams and swinging himself along until his feet touched the top. Willow peered down as the malevolent werewolf attempted to reach her.
Once again, Lowell leaped, fully extending his body. "What do you think now? I believe you're ready to give up, don't you think?"
"No, I won't. Not a chance."
"Surrender now and I will reconsider my decision to kill the
that traitor." He jumped onto one of the beams, closing the distance between them. "It's not too late to save her."
"I don't believe you. I don't believe anything you say.
"You have to believe that I clearly won this fight. You were just buying time for the inevitable outcome. I could have killed you if I wanted to. We both know that."
"Then do it. Kill me." Willow looked at him with a defiant face.
She shook her head as she moved forward once again. "I can't do that. You're of no use to me dead. At least not yet."
Willow took another step back, almost losing her footing as she did so. She gasped and bent over as she placed her palms on her knees to steady herself. And
when she did, she saw the rusty circular saw blade on the floor beneath her.
One wrong move and it would all be over.
"Be careful," Lowell said. "We don't want you to fall and die now. We, your friends, need you."
Not at all flattered, Willow stood staring at her hated enemy with a piercing gaze. "Let me tell you something. I'd rather jump than be your friend."
"You won't get anything out of acting like this. Just accept your fate. It's not the end of the world. Your life won't be that bad. As long as you're well-behaved and obedient of course.
Willow didn't want to admit it, but she was caught between two beams. Lowell was getting closer, and there seemed to be no way for her to escape. Of course she didn't want to give up. She had to do something.
Her eyes searched around and she found it. Up there and not too high in front of him were a pair of bars. Seeing those two bars raised some sort of idea in his head. However, there was a slight doubt lining her resolve, could she do it?
Fuck it, he thought. He had to try. "I'm jumping, Lowell," she said, the satisfied smile on her lips expanding. "If you want me, come and get me."
"No," Lowell growled and came forward.
True to her word, Willow jumped, but she didn't fall, she jumped straight up, letting Lowell float beneath her. She bent her legs firmly behind her back and used the pounding as power to reach up and grasp both bars above, one with each hand.
He then heard an oddly loud noise. Looking down he saw that Lowell had not only landed on the saw blade, but that it had also cut him in half at the waist. The yellow eyes were still staring at him, but now lifeless.
It wasn't for nothing that she had practiced gymnastics and athletics when she was in high school. Willow sighed in relief with her body still hanging from the two bars. A very useful lesson, she had to thank her gym teacher.
After descending back to the ground, she exited the dilapidated building, and she saw Luke and the five werewolves loyal to Lowell still gathered around the campfire. Luke's face looked relieved to see that he was still alive. While the others looked astonished and confused.
Boris looked very surprised. "Where is he?" the big man demanded. "Where's Lowell?"
"He's dead." Willow saw no reason to deny the truth.
Her words elicited murmurs from the other four werewolves, whose names she did not know, nor did she care to. But Boris wasn't muttering. He was furious, his fists clenched and his eyes glazed over.
"You're lying," he snarled. "That's impossible. Lowell will never be defeated by a stupid little mulatto like you." Boris took a step forward. Pausing for a moment, he looked back to see if the others would follow suit. Apparently not. He hurried past Willow and into the mill with long, skipping strides. She had to keep her head down to avoid being bumped as she entered the building. Willow then rushed over to Luke.
"Oh, Luke! Are you okay?" she asked, as she hugged him. She was so happy that Luke was alive that she couldn't resist showing her excitement. Luke might look terrible, bloodied and a complete mess, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
"I'm fine," Luke replied. "What about you? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I'm fine. I feel even better now."
Luke looked at her intently. "What happened in there, Willow? Is Lowell really dead?"
Just as Willow was about to answer, Boris came out of the building, his face pale and his eyes wide. "He's dead," Boris panted, he turned to Willow. "He killed Lowell."
There were panicked murmurs from the other four werewolves. But their shock subsided quickly as Boris stared at Willow with blazing anger. He pointed at Willow.
"She killed our alpha. Kill her," he snapped at the other werewolves. "Kill them both."
Luke took Willow's hand, and they stood together, bracing for what seemed to be an overwhelming attack. Boris on one side, and four wild-looking werewolves on the other. But at that moment with their hands entwined, Willow was confident she and Luke could do anything, despite Willow's lack of experience and the wounds on Luke's body.
Perhaps their enemies could sense that confidence as they all seemed reluctant to attack, except Boris. "What are you waiting for?" he growled. "Kill the bitch and the traitor!"
But none of them moved. Their loyalty to Lowell was at stake now, and it didn't seem as strong as Willow had thought.
"But Lowell is dead," one of the werewolves said. "He can't be the alpha if he's dead. There has to be a new alpha. A stronger alpha."
"That's right," the other agreed. "We always follow the strongest alpha. Always."
"Then follow me," Boris growled impatiently. "Do as I say and kill them."
But they remained motionless.
"You didn't kill Lowell," the first werewolf spoke again. Then he pointed at Willow. "She did. She proved herself stronger than Lowell. We should follow her."
"Yes," the three friends said enthusiastically. "We're following her now. We're following .... uh, what's his name?"
"I don't know," the others admitted.
"Her name is Willow," Luke informed them. "As Ridley's daughter, we all owe her our loyalty."
Her stomach tightening, Willow squeezed Luke's hand and whispered in his ear. "What are you doing?"
"It is your destiny," he murmured in response. "Embrace it. Do not flee from it."
****