He gives me a look that’s equal parts amusement and offense. “I’ll make do with the knife. You take the gun.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, macho man.”
He studies me, rubbing his chin. “You’re really determined to do this.”
“I need to get back to my pack.” I meet his gaze. “And we can’t stay here forever.”
He sighs. “All right. Day after tomorrow. But if you’re not ready?—”
“I’ll be ready,” I say firmly. “We’ve waited long enough.”
The truth is, the cabin has become a dangerous comfort. Away from the prison’s horrors, it would be easy to forget the urgency of our situation. But every day we linger is a day Zella moves forward with her plans—plans that will destroy everything I’ve sworn to protect.
“I’ll start preparations,” Kier says, already moving toward the door. “See what I can hunt that we could take with us. You should rest.”
“I’ve rested enough.” I stand straighter, ignoring the twinge in my side. “I’ll check the perimeter.”
He hesitates, clearly wanting to argue, but nods instead. “Just don’t push too hard. We need you at full strength.”
After he leaves, I circle the cabin slowly, checking the crude alarms he’s set up. The forest is quiet, birds calling to one another in the afternoon light. No sign of pursuit. No hint of danger.
But I know better than to trust the peace. Zella is ruthless and methodical. She wouldn’t have given up just because we escaped. She’ll be hunting us—if not for recapture, then for elimination. We represent a threat to whatever sick vision she’s building.
Evolution, she had called it. As if slavery and torture could be justified by some twisted ideal of progress.
What kind of “greater good” requires the suffering of innocents? What kind of “evolution” builds its foundation on fear and pain?
I complete my circuit of the cabin, ending at the smallstream that runs nearby. Kneeling on the bank, I stare at my reflection in the clear water. My face is thinner than it was before my capture, my pale blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion and haunted by memories. The scar that runs from my temple down my cheek seems more pronounced.
But it’s the silver collar around my throat that holds my attention. A symbol of captivity that I still can’t shed.
With a growl of frustration, I splash the water, destroying the image. My wolf stirs restlessly inside me, weakened by the silver but growing stronger each day. She wants freedom as desperately as I do.
Soon, I promise her.We’ll be home soon.
By the time Kier returns, the sun is setting. He carries two rabbits, already skinned and cleaned, and a handful of wild onions.
“Dinner,” he announces, holding up his catch. “And breakfast for tomorrow.”
“Nice work.” I help him prepare the meal, working in comfortable silence as twilight deepens outside.
We’ve fallen into routines during our stay here—Kier handles most of the hunting and scavenging, having more experience with living off the land, while I take charge of cooking and security. It’s an easy division of labor that plays to our strengths.
Sometimes I wonder if it would be this simple if he were to join my pack, if we could find this quiet rhythm with others around.
Silly. He’s nomad. Why would he want to stay? Why do you want him to stay? You’ve said it yourself, you have no use for attachments.
My wolf whines, stating her objection to my decision.
Hush,I tell her.
“What’s the plan once we reach Shadowmist?” he asks as we eat.
I consider the question carefully. “Warn the Alpha and thepack about Zella’s operation. Mount a rescue for the other prisoners if possible.”
“And after that?”
I pause, fork halfway to my mouth. “After?”
