But Dexter was already geared up, his firearm held firmly. His gaze conveyed a fierce resolve and unyielding determination.
“If I can’t face this fear, how can I call myself a father?” Dexter’s words cut through the tension.
Without further ado, he rose and marched toward the area with fewer wolves. The group could only watch, gripped by apprehension.
Today, facing the danger threatening his own daughter, Dexter finally knew what it was like to love a child. Urgency and worry surged within him; the mere thought of harm befalling his child filled him with an unbearable dread. He wouldn’t want to live either if anything were to happen to her.
Proficient in combat, Dexter was swift and agile. With a deft motion, he seized the leg of an attacking wolf and hurled it aside, outpacing the beast. His other leg swept low, tripping another wolf, its mournful howl piercing the air with a haunting echo.
Yet, the sound drew the attention of the other wolves, their eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty anticipation as they closed in on Dexter.
Dexter narrowed his eyes. His bodyguards positioned nearby braced themselves, ready to unleash a barrage of bullets.
However, Dexter opted for hand-to-hand combat, inching closer to the dilapidated house with determination etched in his features.
As his strength waned, a wolf that had been lurking nearby lunged at him from behind. Larry and the others watched in horror, their voices ringing out in warning, “Watch out-“
Dexter’s response was swift; his elbow struck the wolf’s head with precision, sending it crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.
While the wolf had been malevolent, its hunger and weakness made it easy to deal with.
Dexter harbored no desire to prolong the confrontation. He was near the house now, about to call out for Grape, when a haunting howl of a wolf pup reverberated from within.
Dread seized him, suffusing his heart with anguish.
The presence of wolves inside the house could only mean one of two possibilities: either Grape wasn’t there, or she had already fallen prey to the beasts.
Observing Dexter’s sudden halt, Justin panicked. “What’s happening to him?”
Larry rose slowly, his expression mirroring the shock evident on Dexter’s face. “Maybe… he senses that something has happened to Grape,” he mused aloud.
Justin’s legs buckled beneath him, causing him to collapse to the ground, his gaze distant and vacant.
Despite being surrounded by wolves, Dexter swiftly regained his composure. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he pushed open the door of the house. Inside, he was met with a surprising sight-a litter of wolf pups, no more than a month old, huddled on the ground.
Dexter’s expression turned grave as a sense of foreboding washed over him, intensifying with each passing moment.
Outside, the wolves’ numbers continued to swell, heightening the imminent danger. In response, Dexter’s companions swiftly readied their firearms, prepared to defend him at all costs.
Just then, Dexter’s gaze shifted to the wolf pups, where a piece of fabric caught his eye-a fragment of a child’s clothing.
And there, amidst the pups, he spotted her- Grape, who had evidently been here for some time, cradling a hungry wolf pup in her arms. Her delicate fingers stroked the pup’s fur as she softly sang a nursery rhyme in her innocent voice, “Oh, good doggy. Oh, good doggy. So cute and playful. Let’s have some fun together.”
As Dexter observed this tender scene, a tumult of emotions surged within him-the relief of having regained what he thought he had lost, mingled with a profound sense of gratitude. His eyes moistened slightly, and he couldn’t articulate the depth of his feelings.
Turning around, Dexter raised a hand to signal the group outside to hold their fire. He then closed the door, barely stifling a chuckle.
Perplexed, one of the bodyguards spoke up. “What does this mean?”
Larry was momentarily stunned, but swiftly composed himself. “Grape is in there… She’s inside!”
After singing the nursery rhyme for the third time, Grape finally noticed the presence of someone else in the room.
