The Alpha's Unwanted Luna (by Miss L) novel Chapter 259

Chapter 259

16 – Greta

This has to be the most ridiculous situation I’ve ever found myself in. Here I am, caught in a damn net, dangling from a tree like some cartoon character in a slapstick show. Seriously, who still sets traps like this? It feels like something out of the Middle Ages.

“Finn! Quit messing around with that idiot and get me down!” I shout, frustration bubbling up as I swing back and forth.

There’s a heavy thud as both guys hit the ground. Finn’s wolf growls low and menacingly in my direction. Even though the light is fading fast, I can still tell the difference between these two wolves—they’re almost evenly matched, but I can sense the subtle edges.

I keep scanning the treeline. There are others waiting their turn, shadows blending into the darkening forest, too many to count. If I don’t get down soon, this is going to be a death sentence for Finn. They’ll wear him down, one battle after another. I glance upward again. There’s no way he can reach me like this. The only option is to climb the net myself, which was clearly designed to trap guys the size of Finn and Ryker. I’m swinging wildly, tilted like a pendulum, and it’s a nightmare trying to keep my balance. Whoever set this trap knows exactly what they’re doing with this medieval contraption.

Finally, I reach the net’s closure. My weight makes it impossible to open, no matter how hard I pull or tug. I look down and see Finn struggling below; I can smell the coppery scent of blood in the air. Damn it! I extend my claws above the net’s closure and swipe furiously.

Suddenly, my wolf shifts as we plummet toward the ground. She thrashes wildly, shredding the ropes with her claws as we fall. The impact hits hard, sending a shockwave up her legs, but we land running. No time to nurse bruises now—some of the stragglers at the treeline have joined the fight, emboldened now that Finn isn’t alone.

My wolf rears up to face a massive opponent. This guy is too big to be normal—his proportions are all wrong. He’s like a werewolf T-Rex, with a barrel chest twice as wide as normal and tiny, stubby legs. Something’s definitely off about him, but there’s no time to analyze. We slash at his eyes, then clamp down on one of his forelegs. He howls in agony before vanishing from sight. My wolf has tufts of his fur stuck between her teeth—gross. She glances over to see Finn piled on top of the burly beast. I’m not sure if he threw himself in or was thrown, but I’m grateful for the backup.

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