The wanting is dangerous. Wanting gets wolves killed. So, I swallow it down, bury it deep, and pretend the only thing that matters is getting out alive.
But even as we run, hearts pounding, paws tearing earth, bullets screaming past my skull, I can feel it there.
That hollow space in my chest.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Festering like a wound that never healed.
And, God help me, a small, quiet part of me wonders…
What if this chase, this disaster, this stupid, catastrophic night is the thing I need to change? What if it means instead of feeling like I’m failing or lacking, I step up? What if I can’t?
I need to stop looking through the lens of running away. I need to run to something. Even if right now it’s to safety.
The ground vibrates beneath us. Heavy paws, too many to count, pounding the forest floor in a rhythm that vibrates up my legs. The Eustace pack is closing in. They’re way too close. Their fury hangs dense in the air, sharp and metallic, like blood.
My wolf snarls, urging me to turn, to fight, to make a final stand with teeth bared and throat open. To not go out like a coward.
Not yet.
Not here.
Not like this.
“Left!”I bark through the bond, veering sharply as a bullet snaps past my muzzle. Buff and Froggy follow without hesitation, skidding in the dirt as we leap over a fallen log and vanish into thicker brush.
The forest turns into a tight tunnel. Branches crack. Leaves explode. Paws shred the ground beneath us.
“We’ve almost lost them!”Buff yells.
He’s wrong.
I can smell their rage and bruised pride. Their determination. Eustace wolves don’t lose prey. They hunt until the prey is silent. Until the only sound is victory.
A shadow shifts ahead, and my stomach drops.
“Stop!”I shout.
It’s too late.
A net shoots up from the ground with a metallic snap, catching Buff mid-sprint. He howls as the weighted mesh drags him sideways, rolling him across the forest floor.
“Buff!”Froggy skids toward him, triggering a second trap.
Silver-lined cables whip out from two trees, snapping tight around Froggy’s legs. He hits the dirt hard, snarling and clawing at the wires that sizzle against his fur.
Did they herd us here?
“Hold still!”I lunge toward him.
A huge wolf, bigger than any shifter should be—bigger than me—launches out of the shadows and crushes me into the ground. I snap at him, my claws tearing at the earth, my wolf screaming at me to fight back, to tear the bastard’s throat out and kill him for what they are doing to Buff and Froggie.
But the weight is too much.
The wolf’s jaws clamp down on my shoulder with just enough pressure to warn, but not enough to kill. Yet.
