Then, a howl broke the silence. It was distant but clear. The bear froze, ears swiveling toward the sound. Another howl followed, then a third. A wolf pack was closing in, and they were moving fast toward our clearing.
He didn’t run. Instead, he went back to the ropes with a desperate intensity, his jaws snapping at the fibers. He was tearing at them with his teeth, the thick cords finally starting to fray under the pressure of his powerful jaws. One of the main lines finally started to give way.
The rope snapped, giving my arms some slack, but I was still pinned to the tree. Gray shadows began to move between the pines. A large alpha male with piercing yellow eyes stepped into the clearing, followed by five others. They were circling, sensing an easy meal in a man who couldn’t run.
The bear stepped in front of me, shielding me with his bulk, and let out a roar that vibrated in my chest. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated warning. But the wolves were hungry and saw their numbers as an advantage. The alpha gave a short bark, and the pack began to tighten the circle.
My protector stood his ground, rising again onto his hind legs. He looked like a mountain of fur and fury. That roar wasn’t just a sound; it was a message that any predator in the woods could understand…
