Thrown to the Wolves (The Faith in Peril Trilogy) by Holly Newcastle Page A

knew her death was imminent, because her posture had fallen, the shoulders hunched, and her head remained down. The tail that had always wagged happily now lay between her hind legs. Even her ears drooped. She whimpered and whined, cowering before her attackers, her black eyes nearly opaque, the light all but gone in them.
    “There, there, girl,” said Jacob softly. “You’ve no reason to be scared. You’re in God’s hands now. He’ll take care of you.”
    I counted at least twelve wolves, the pack growling and whining, whipping their tails back and forth in anticipation of the kill. They had chased Molly to this place, our dog leading them straight to us. There was little we could do, but stay above ground and watch the unfolding horror, which seemed to unravel with deliberate slowness. The pack waited for a sign, their yellow eyes glinting predatorily.
    I knew nothing about wolf behavior, but perhaps Jacob could explain things. “What are they doing?”
    “I think that one’s the alpha.” He pointed to the larger of the white wolves. “He’s the first to howl, and then the others follow.”
    The animals barely glanced in our direction, their focus on Molly, who had lowered herself to the ground, her head bent obsequiously. Each wolf howled then, the sound swelling, while Molly cowered even further, pressing her nose into the dirt.
    A loud crack drew my attention to Jacob, who had torn a small branch from the tree. “You go!” he shouted, throwing the stick at the offending wolves, although they sidestepped it easily. “Shoo! Go away!”
    Seeing this, Anna grasped a limb over her head, bringing it down with a loud snap. “Go away! Go eat something else!” She balanced on a thicker branch, her boots a foot apart, the knees slightly bent. “Go away!” She hurled the wood, although she missed and it landed on the ground less than a meter away.
    The animals took note of this, especially the white wolf, who sneered, baring sharp-looking teeth. This brought forth a declaration of solidarity, as the other wolves yelped and whined, their tails wagging vigorously.
    Jacob broke off another branch, hurling it at the wolf. He stepped aside, but the end caught him on the rump, and the animal growled. “Go away! Leave our dog alone!”
    Hope suddenly flared within me. Could we save Molly? I reached for a branch, tugging on it, until it snapped. I was about to throw it when a kerfuffle occurred. The animals became even more frenzied than before, with the alpha howling heartily, although the tone sounded higher in pitch. Before I could throw the stick, Molly jumped to her feet, darting into the foliage, and disappearing from sight. The white wolf gave chase, as the others followed. Their sounds carried in the forest, like cries of ecstasy, while Molly shrieked, the sound cut off abruptly.
    I glanced at Jacob. “We did everything we could for her. Throwing that stick was a brilliant idea.”
    “But it wasn’t enough,” he said softly, sitting on the branch with his shoulders concave. “Wish we could’ve done more.”
    “She fought bravely,” said Anna. “We fought bravely as well.”
    “It was God’s will.” The howling and yelping continued, and I surmised the wolves were greedily devouring our pet. “We’ll see Molly again in heaven.” I wanted to weep, feeling the prick of tears, but I forced them away. I needed to remain strong.
    My parents handled death with acceptance and pragmatism, because they knew it as a part of the evolving cycle of life. We would all die one day too, yet having to bear witness to such tragedy remained difficult. Knowing Molly died, and hearing the commotion in the distance, I hung my head, desperately holding back the tears.
    “When can we go down?” asked Anna. “I’m scared. I don’t want them to attack me.” She sat on a branch, her feet dangling below.
    “I don’t know.”
    “The wolves don’t want anything to do with humans,” said Jacob. “They came for the