Raven raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was interrupting a noble cause. Silly me."
"He's a savage, an animal!" the second man snapped, jabbing a finger toward the boy.
"He's a child," Raven said, stepping forward with dangerous calm.
Raven's gaze flicked briefly to the boy again. His eyes were still closed.
She took another step forward, flipping the knife in her hand. "Tell you what. You walk away, I don't gut you. Sound good?"
"Who even are you?" the bald one asked.
"Just a girl with a knife and a low tolerance for grown men beating on children."
Then, the second man smirked. "You know," he said, giving her a slow once-over, "you're kind of cute. You'll make beautiful babies"
"Tell me that again when I'm done carving my initials into your spleen."
The bald one chuckled, but it was forced. The other guy's smile faltered.
Raven stepped forward again. "Last warning, gentlemen. Leave. Now."
"Are you one of them too?" the bald man said again. "One of the ones who wiped humans out?"
Raven tilted her head andreplied, "If I was, would we be having this conversation?"
The men exchanged a look, their bravado wavering under the weight of common sense. She watched the lightbulb moment happen on Baldy's face. She had a point, and even they couldn't deny it.
"Now," Raven said, stepping forward, knife steady in her hand, "step away from the child."
The second man spat on the ground. "Or what?"
She grinned, feral and fearless. "Or you'll have your asses handed to you. Neatly wrapped."
It wasn't her best threat, but adrenaline was a cruel motivator.
A scuffle broke out before either side could talk themselves out of it. It wasn't a fair fight, two grown men against one lone woman should've gone differently but Raven had spent the last decade fighting off things with bigger teeth. She moved like a shadow, jabbing and dodging with vicious grace. A punch to the ribs, a boot to the knee, one solid jab to the throat.
In the end, it wasn't her that gave in. It was the men who ran, panting and limping, one clutching what would surely be a very swollen groin soon.
Raven spat on the ground and muttered, "Savages," before turning to the boy.
He was slumped awkwardly, eyes closed, his face mottled with bruises and dirt. No shirt, just a pair of shorts clinging to his bony frame. Raven crouched beside him, gently brushing his hair out of his face. His pulse fluttered against her fingers.
"You're gonna be okay, kid," she whispered, trying to convince herself too.
That's when she heard the low growls, several of them.
She stood slowly.
Five wolves surrounded her in a half-circle, their golden eyes glowing with suspicion and fury. They moved as one, stepping forward.
Raven's hands shot up.
"Okay, okay! I know what this looks like," she said quickly, trying to keep her voice light even as her heart jackhammered in her chest. "But hear me out—this is not what it looks like."
The wolves shifted at once, bones cracking, fur retracting, and suddenly they were five very muscular men wearing nothing but shorts and scowls.
"Seize her!" barked the one in front, tall with a scar slicing through his eyebrow.
Two of them grabbed her arms, and though she struggled, they were stronger, faster, and probably a lot better fed. One of the men bent to gently lift the boy. Raven watched helplessly as his limp form was carried away.
"Well, this is just peachy," Raven muttered as she was dragged through the trees.
They didn't take her far. Just a few minutes' walk and they emerged into a clearing she hadn't even realized was this close to her hideout. It was cleverly camouflaged.
There were huts and shacks. At the center of it all stood a large structure: the Pack House. It towered above everything else.
Her heart sank. This was a real pack. Organized and territorial.
She was in serious trouble.
The moment they entered the camp, eyes turned toward her. Some curious, some hostile, some strangely intrigued.
"Will you let me go if I say please?" Raven hissed to the men gripping her arms.
"You attacked one of ours," the scarred leader said curtly.
"I was helping him!"
"You expect us to take your word for it?"
"Well, yeah. I've got a very trustworthy face."
The other man beside her actually chuckled, though she quickly covered it with a cough. Raven glanced at him. He had bright, intelligent eyes and an amused smirk he clearly wasn't supposed to show.
"Look," Raven said, trying to appeal to reason or at least basic decency. "You can toss me in wolf jail or whatever, but that kid needs help. He's barely breathing."
Scar-Eyebrow narrowed his gaze. "You'll answer to the Beta. Until then, keep your mouth shut."
"Oh, sure," Raven muttered as they pulled her toward the Pack House.
*
They didn't so much escort Raven to the prison as they launched her into it like a sack of potatoes. The rusted metal door groaned in protest as it was yanked open, then slammed shut with finality. The clang echoed down the stone corridor like a death sentence.
Raven pushed herself up off the dirty floor and looked around. The air was damp, metallic, and so still she could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. The prison cell was small, with moss pushing out from cracks in the cement walls and rust lines bleeding down from ancient bolts. Iron bars, reinforced and too thick to break through with even her stubbornness, stood between her and freedom. It had clearly been an old human prison before the wolves moved in. Of course. They always did this, took over the ruins of civilization and made them their own.
There was a single cot in the corner, but its mattress had long since become one with the mildew. A small barred window high on the wall let in a sliver of light. The air smelled of damp stone and rust. Raven didn't even bother trying to make herself comfortable. She dropped to the floor, her back against the wall, and pulled her knees to her chest.