Jason
I’m free.
The words don’t make sense yet. They don’t sink into the marrow of me. They sit on the surface of my mind, unreal and feather-light, like something I’m afraid to touch in case it shatters.
One minute, I was on my knees waiting for the bite that would tear my throat out.
The next…
Violet.
My Violet.
Charging into a wolf execution ground in a muscle car with Buff sticking his wolf head out the window like an idiot, and her grandmother wielding a shotgun like she was born for war.
And then she stepped into the clearing.
Not afraid.
Not careful.
She faced the alphas and negotiated for my life.
She paid my debt.
And now, in the clearing where I thought I’d take my last breath, is a party.
A full-blown, rowdy, alcohol-soaked, firelit celebration. Apparently, the get-together was to celebrate my death. Turns out, me not dying has given the party life.
Someone’s grilling meat over a giant open pit, and the scent of smoke, fat, and herbs drift through the air. Wolves laugh loudly, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of joy and relief. Someone’s pouring a drink that smells like paint thinner. Someone else is playing an off-key guitar. Pack members wrestle, tease each other, shift mid-run, and splash into the pond at the center of the grounds.
It should feel chaotic and overwhelming, but instead it’s all muted.
Because all I can see is her.
Violet stands near the fire, hair glinting in the late-afternoon sun, listening intently to one of the wolves who’s explaining something with wild arm gestures. She tilts her head slightly to track his voice, smiling politely, laughing when he pauses expectantly. Every movement she makes is delicate and unafraid.
She saved me.
My heart clenches so hard I can barely breathe.
She saved me.
Not accidentally.
Not incidentally.
Not because she didn’t know better.
Because she chose me.
Someone slaps my back hard enough to make me stagger.
“Still alive, stray!” Talon crows, handing me a mason jar of something that smells unsafe. “Rejoice!”
I cough. “What is this?”
“Moonshine,” Thorne says. “Beer is for humans.”
