“Keep them off-balance,” some dog said in a low growl. “Spring, watch your side!” One of the Wild Dogs leaped to her right, heading Sunshine off from escape as the small dog scuttled from behind Bruno toward the shelter of some underbrush. Lucky looked around for the dog that had given the orders, but couldn’t see him.

Lucky knew that if any of the bigger Leashed Dogs dashed to Sunshine’s and Daisy’s defense, the rest of the hostile Pack would dart in at their flanks, biting and worrying till the defenders were harried and worn. When it came to the real fight, to claws and teeth and torn skin, Bella and the others would already be exhausted. He’d seen it before, sneaky but efficient, in the brutal bands of dogs he’d tried to avoid in his city days.

He would have to surprise these Wild Dogs, using tactics as cunning and dirty as their own. Don’t just jump in, he told himself. Be as wily as the Forest Dog.

In the shadows, Lucky could get much closer before he pounced, so long as he kept downwind. He dodged through the trees, and as he crept from behind a ridge he caught his first sight of the hostile Pack’s leader.

Their Alpha dog.

Huge and gray-furred, he looked lithe and graceful, yet powerful, too. He wasn’t joining the battle, but kept giving his Pack sharp orders.

“Keep at their heels! Teach them nobody invades our territory!” He threw his head back and let out a long, snarling howl.

Lucky felt prickles of fear in his fur, his stomach clenching with foreboding as he crept forward.

That’s no dog. . . .

No wonder the strange Pack’s tactics were as cunning as a wolf’s. Lucky had never seen one of those distant dog-cousins close up, but from vague glimpses and half-remembered tales he recognized the pale eyes, savage teeth, and shaggy fur. And there was no mistaking that vicious howl; Lucky had heard something like it once, a long time ago. A memory rippled through his body—a memory not of something seen, but something heard.

This powerful gray dog must be half wolf! Lucky had heard of such dogs, but had never met one.

There were another two dogs keeping their eyes trained on the larger Leashed Dogs, though they occasionally looked to their leader and whined for his instructions. Lucky guessed they were directly below the dog-wolf in the strict Wild Pack hierarchy. One was a huge dark-furred dog with a brutally strong neck and mighty jaws. He was watching Martha carefully, but though she was the biggest of the Leashed Dogs, Lucky could see she was already limping on one leg, leaving bloody paw prints when she tried to get out of his way.

The other Wild Dog was a far thinner swift-dog who dodged and circled the fight, moving so fast Lucky’s eyes could barely follow her, snapping out orders with a brisk efficiency. She was smaller than the dark-furred dog and fragile-looking, but she seemed very much in command of her underlings.