The Wolfless Contract Luna (Grace and Ethan) novel Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Fighting Without A Wolf**

**Grace POV**

A sudden splash of something cold and wet hits my face, jolting me from the clutches of unconsciousness.

I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but the sharp sting in my eyes only intensifies. My fingers come away sticky and red, a vivid reminder of the chaos surrounding me. It takes a moment for my dazed mind to register that the blood isn’t mine.

“Ethan?” I call out, my voice cracking like dry twigs underfoot, a mix of fear and desperation threading through my tone.

The world tilts, and I realize it’s not the ground that’s shifting but the car, which lies in a crumpled heap. Shattered glass sparkles across the dashboard, glinting in the light like a constellation of stars scattered across a dark sky. I find myself pressed against something solid and warm.

Ethan.

His arms encircle me, a protective barrier, one hand still braced against the crushed door above my head. A deep gash oozes crimson from above his temple, the blood trickling down onto my cheek and neck like a macabre blessing. His eyes are closed, and I can’t tell if he’s merely resting or if something more sinister lurks beneath the surface.

“Ethan.” I shake his shoulder, my heart hammering in my chest. Nothing. “Ethan!” I call again, louder this time, panic clawing at my throat like a wild animal desperate to escape.

He took the brunt of the impact. All of it. His body is a shield, shielding me from the jagged metal that used to be the passenger side of our vehicle.

With trembling hands, I press my palm against his chest. Relief floods through me when I feel the faint rise and fall of his breath. Thank the Goddess, he’s alive.

“Driver?” I shout towards the front of the car, my voice echoing in the eerie silence. The partition is shattered, and the windshield is a spiderweb of cracks, distorting my view of the outside world. “Can anyone hear me?”

Silence answers me, heavy and suffocating.

Then, a howl slices through the air.

My blood turns to ice, freezing my very core.

The sound is too close, too many. It’s not the harmonious call of a pack but a cacophony of fractured, vicious sounds. Something is terribly wrong.

A foul scent fills the air, a nauseating mix of rot, fear, and bloodlust thick enough to choke on.

‘Rogues.’

On a highway. In broad daylight.

12:26

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**Chapter 14: Fighting Without A Wolf**

This isn’t a random occurrence.

Another howl, closer this time, reverberates through the air. Then another. They’re circling, searching.

For us.

My heart races, pounding against my ribs like a frantic drum. Lori isn’t here. The warriors—I can’t hear anything from the other vehicles. And I have no wolf. No shift. No fangs or claws or supernatural strength.

Just me.

I need to act, to move.

With a surge of determination, I wriggle out from under Ethan’s arm, biting back a whimper as pain lances through my shoulder. Glass crunches beneath my palms, sharp and unforgiving. The door won’t budge—the frame is too warped, a twisted prison. I twist towards the back, kicking at the seat until it finally gives way.

My hands tremble as I search the interior, praying for a glimmer of hope. Ethan would never ride in a car without weapons. He wouldn’t allow it.

There! A nearly invisible panel beneath the seat. I pry it open with urgency.

A gun. Its black metal is heavy and cold in my hands. I check the chamber—silver bullets.

‘Thank you, Ethan.’

Taking a steadying breath, I ease the back door open, bracing myself for what lies beyond.

The highway is a scene of carnage.

SUVs are overturned, smoke curling lazily into the air. Bodies—wolves and warriors in human form—are strewn across the asphalt like broken dolls, lifeless and still. Blood pools beneath them, dark and spreading, a grim testament to the violence that has unfolded.

Twenty. Maybe more. I can feel their presence in the air, a weight pressing down on me.

‘Twenty rogues did this to Stellarnight warriors?’

That’s impossible. It can’t be—

A snarl shatters my thoughts.

I spin around, adrenaline flooding my veins.

12:26

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**Chapter 14: Fighting Without A Wolf**

The rogue lands on the roof of the car behind me, claws scraping against the metal with a screech that sends chills down my spine. Its eyes are yellow and hollow, foam dripping from its jaws, and it reeks of decay.

It lunges.

I pull the trigger.

Another set of claws catches my thigh, and I go down hard, my vision blurring as darkness threatens to overtake me.

The third rogue jumps.

I throw my arms up, knowing it’s a futile gesture—but I can’t just lie down and accept my fate.

A roar shakes the air.

The rogue is ripped away mid-flight, jaws clamping around its throat. Blood sprays across the ground as I scramble back, watching as the rogue hits the pavement, twitching once before going still.

The wolf that killed it is a massive creature, its midnight fur glistening in the light, eyes like molten gold. Blood drips from its muzzle, a fierce warrior in its own right.

Ethan.

He moves with lethal grace, tearing through the remaining rogues with brutal efficiency. Claws and teeth flash, a whirlwind of fury. One rogue tries to flee, but he catches it by the spine and snaps it like kindling.

The few that remain scatter into the trees, retreating into the shadows.

Silence falls.

Ethan turns toward me, his sides heaving with exertion. Blood mats his fur, and a gash above his left eye continues to bleed, a stark reminder of the battle we just endured.

He saved me.

He takes a step forward, then another, his massive head lowering as he presses his muzzle to my cheek. His warm breath ghosts over my skin, a soothing balm amidst the chaos.

I lift a trembling hand, fingers sinking into his thick fur. He rumbles, a low and deep sound that vibrates through my bones, wrapping around my heart.

My heart skips a beat.

12:26

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**Chapter 14: Fighting Without A Wolf**

It just stops and starts again, uneven and chaotic.

And in that moment, as his golden eyes meet mine, I hear it.

Faint. Distant. Like an echo from the bottom of a well.

A voice that isn’t mine.

‘Mate.’