CHAPTER 8 — The Bullet Meant for a Legend
Time seemed to stop.
Mason screamed.
Emily covered her eyes.
The bullet struck...
But not Titan.
Jonathan stepped in front of him.
The old man collapsed into the snow.
Blood spread across his coat.
Titan let out the deepest howl anyone had ever heard.
It echoed through every mountain in the valley.
The wolves answered instantly.
Hundreds of voices...
One cry.
One promise.
Protect him.
The helicopter circled lower.
Ropes dropped from both sides.
Armed mercenaries slid toward the ground.
They wore black tactical armor with the same silver wolf emblem on their shoulders.
The Black Crest.
An international organization that trafficked rare animals to billionaires, private collections, and illegal research facilities.
Their commander smiled beneath his helmet.
"Alive if possible."
"Dead if necessary."
Titan charged.
The first mercenary never had time to raise his rifle.
Titan slammed into him like a freight train, sending him crashing into the snow.
Another fired a tranquilizer dart.
It pierced Titan's shoulder.
Then another.
And another.
Three darts.
Enough to sedate an elephant.
Titan staggered...
But he kept moving.
The commander stared in disbelief.
"What is this thing?"
Meanwhile, Mason dragged Jonathan behind a fallen pine.
Jonathan coughed blood.
"There isn't much time."
He grabbed Mason's jacket.
"Listen carefully."
"The journal your grandfather left..."
"It isn't complete."
Mason froze.
"What do you mean?"
Jonathan forced a weak smile.
"The last pages..."
"...were hidden."
"Inside Titan's collar."
Jonathan's breathing became shallow.
"They explain why Black Crest has hunted him for forty years."
"And why..."
Jonathan closed his eyes.
"...they'll never stop."
His hand slipped away.
Mason's voice broke.
"Jonathan!"
No answer.
Titan looked back.
For a brief second...
The giant guardian understood.
The only man who had known him since birth...
...was gone.
The valley fell silent.
Then Titan roared.
May you like
Not with grief.
With vengeance.
