The muffled crunch of bone drew gasps from those who watched. The powerful wolf-body of Derak thrashed and bucked but the teeth of the younger beast were sunk deep.
With a last strangled cry from Derak, it was over. Slowly the jaws of the son opened. The father lay limp and silent. The fur of both creatures was matted with blood. Malcolm turned his battered head to look over at Holly. She reached out to him.
Dragging himself painfully a few inches at a time, Malcolm came to her. Ramsay started again to reach for the pistol, but held back. Holly dropped to her knees as the beast that had been a boy reached her. He rested his great torn muzzle against her for a moment, then he died.
Holly stroked the tangled fur of his head, smoothing it down. After a minute she stood up. "It's over, Gavin," she said.
He looked back along the ledge and frowned. "Where are the rest of them?"
Holly followed his gaze. The two of them were alone. They and the dead beasts. "They must have slipped away into the trees."
"Should we report this back in town? Send out a search party?"
She looked deep into his eyes. "What do you think?"
"No," he said after a moment. "They'd put us away."
She nodded and squeezed his hand.
He said, "We'd better try to make it back before dark. Are you ready to walk down?"
"I'm ready," she said.
Gavin circled her waist with an arm and they started down the trail. From somewhere in the hills behind them they heard it one last time.
The howling.
They did not look back.