Fenella sniffed the scent. It was one of the many scents that she had come to know well in recent days. The scent of Lowell's pack, Luke and the half-breed. Those scents rekindled her anger since she found Lowell's dead body. She had to find them all to avenge her lover's death, especially she wanted to tear the half-breed apart and eat her heart. That would be the ultimate satisfaction for him.
Without Boris, tracking down Willow and the defectors might be difficult for Fenella. Boris might be dumb as a rock, but his tracking skills were second to none. Even with their quarry clearly trying to eliminate traces of the campsite and disguise traces of their destination, Boris had no trouble tracking them down.
Both of them were in wolf form when they arrived at the place. Fenella walked around a small clearing in the forest. Boris pointed his nose at the ground, obviously trying to figure out which direction Willow and the others had gone so that they could continue the chase.
Fenella had become impatient since being heartbroken by Lowell's death. She quickly transitioned from white wolf to human. Standing up, she leaned against the trunk of a tall cedar, brushed her golden hair back over her shoulder, and then folded her arms in front of her chest.
"How did it go, Boris?" Fenella said to Boris. "Can you tell where they went or not?"
The big brown wolf held his nose to the ground for a while before looking at her. Then he too transformed himself into a human. It rose to its full height and grinned to show off the teeth that had all been filed down to sharp points. "They're trying harder to cover their tracks every day," he said.
"What do you mean? Are you telling me that you can't track them?
"Don't worry, Fenella. I can track them. I can track anything."
"Good. Then what are you waiting for? Which way did they go?"
Boris pointed towards the forest. "They're heading north. Toward the mountains."
"That must be where Elliot is hiding." Fenella muttered. That made sense. Luke must have taken Willow to her father. She couldn't think of any other reason why they were rushing into this dense forest with such difficulty.
The sound of thunder rumbling in the distance interrupted Fenella's train of thought. She looked up and saw dark clouds in the sky. Feeling raindrops on her nose. It looked like it was going to rain heavily. She sniffed the smell of water in the air. She turned to Boris again. "Let's move. We have to catch up with them."
"The storm seems to be heading this way," Boris said. "Maybe we should take shelter for a while."
"We won't stop," she cut him off. "Are you afraid of thunder and lightning? What kind of werewolf are you? You sound like a puppy that still needs to be suckled by its mother. I will walk through any weather. Rain, wind, snow, and even storm, if that's what it takes to make sure Willow pays for the destruction of my life. With or without your help."
Not waiting for him to reply, Fenella returned to her wolf form and then ran into the forest in the direction Boris had pointed. She expected to hear Boris following her not long after, and sure enough, she soon heard the sound of his paws walking on the forest floor not far behind.
Fenella was not surprised as she was familiar with Boris' disposition. He was incapable of thinking for himself, and needed someone to follow him.
Fenella slowed down slightly to allow him to precede her. After all, she was a tracker. Although Boris had been loyal to her so far, it was clear that he did not have the same respect for her as he did for Lowell, and that was not surprising. Female werewolves rarely earned the same respect as males, which was why alpha females leading packs were so rare.
However, Fenella had no desire to lead anyone. All she needed was Boris to help her long enough so she could find Willow and get her revenge. Once that happened, nothing else mattered.
***
Her decision might have been the wrong one, leading the pack into something uncertain. Willow felt she had put the pack in danger. How could she not feel that way? They crossed a narrow road winding up the side of the mountain with the roar of the wind drowning out all other sounds. The path was barely wide enough for even one person to walk alone. Solid rock walls on one side and a sheer cliff face on the other. One false step and it was all over for whoever fell, and Willow feared it might happen to her or one of her packmates at any moment.
They all followed her. Trusting her. It was her responsibility to keep them safe, and instead she brought them here. Where they were anything but not safe at all. The narrow path was already dangerous enough, and the rain didn't help any.
The downpour soaked the rocks beneath their feet, leaving the path twice as dangerous. And it was that danger that prompted Willow to second-guess her decision to lead her pack here. Maybe it was time to turn back before it was too late.
She looked back at Luke, who was right behind her as they were all forced to walk in single file. She made sure to shout to be heard, overpowering the sound of the wind. "I think we should head back the way we came. This storm doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon."
"I think we should keep going forward. There must be a cave or overhang somewhere here. After all, we've been walking for hours. It'll be dark long before we make it down to the foot of the mountain. You don't want to try navigating a trail like this in the dark. Trust me."
Willow agreed, but it didn't make her feel any better about their urgent situation. Now they were literally stuck between a rock and a deep chasm. Going back was not a realistic option, and going forward meant facing the unknown, which was even scarier than going back because no one knew what might happen.
He stared ahead at Lou, who was four or five yards ahead of him. If anyone knew how far they had to travel before finding a safe place, Lou could because he had tracking abilities.
"Lou," she called his name, but he couldn't seem to hear her because of the wind.
Wanting to catch up with him, Willow quickened her pace. She watched her feet as she tried to describe them as balance beams. She had done gymnastics for six years at school, and had been on that beam more times than she could count. She might have been out of practice for a long time, but she was sure her balance was still better than average. Although she had never worried about falling to her death when she was on the balance beam, and the balance beam had also never been soaking wet and slippery, so this was not exactly the same.
Her back pressed against the cliff, she shifted, each step measured to ensure that she didn't take a bad step and end up falling sideways. Despite her best efforts to close the distance between her and Lou, he seemed to be moving at a speed that Willow couldn't match. Apparently six years of gymnastics wasn't worth what she expected.
"Lou," she called out to him a second time.
But once again the sound of the wind overpowered her voice. Willow was beginning to feel like her efforts weren't going to work. She needed to get closer so Lou could hear her. So she sped up again, still staring at her feet as she advanced. If she could go a little faster she might be able to catch up with him. And as long as she watched her step then she could do it.
But measuring each step didn't help when the rocks beneath her feet collapsed. She tried to grip the cliff face to keep from falling, but it was too flat and too slippery from the rain. Her nails clawed at the rock in vain. Even her screams were carried away by the wind, and she was sure she would fall to the ground hundreds of feet below her.
Willow started to float down, but she was suddenly stopped in mid-air when someone grabbed her arm. She looked up to see Luke lying on his stomach on the ledge. Teeth gritted and the muscles of his arm bulged from the strain of holding him down.
"I've got you," he groaned. "Just calm down."
"How can I calm down?" exclaimed Willow. "I really thought for a minute I was going to fall!" She struggled to hold on and tried not to look down.
"Help me get her back up," Luke shouted to the others, and they wasted no time in getting to his aide. Mike held her legs to prevent her from slipping off the ledge too, while Don lay down right beside Luke and reached out towards Willow.
"Take my hand," the werewolf said.
Willow tried to grab Don's hand, but to no avail. She reached as far as she could and there was still almost a full foot between their fingertips. This wasn't going to work. She could feel her arm slipping out of Luke's grasp. He may be strong, but the rain was clearly making it difficult for him to maintain their grip.
****