I don’t understand why. But I’m not going to slow down and question it. Not when the exit is so close.
My bare feet slap against the floor with a furious rhythm as I burst through the exit door, blinding myself by the bright rays of morning light. I wish I could take a minute to appreciate the grass between my toes and feel the warmth of the sun against me, but five other guards are barreling toward me from other directions as soon as I walk outside.
I still feel the pull. The familiar clawing sensation inside me begs me to get out as quickly as I can.
I don’t look for a gate or a door to leave. I dash straight toward the tall metal fence that’s been holding me hostage since I was eight years old. The only thing visible behind it is a dense patch of woods. If I can get over that fence, I can get into the woods and follow this pull. It has to lead me to safety.
“Shoot her!” a guard shouts beside me.
In my periphery, I see someone raising a weapon at me. I’ve seen it before, and it’s been used on me countless times. A sticky electric patch would land on my skin and have me on the ground, thrashing within seconds.
But not today.
I dodge it, quickening my pace with every ounce of power I can summon. When I’m close enough to the fence, I launch myself at it. I’m surprised by how high I can jump and how quickly my fingers lace through the chains to bring me toward the top.
I cry out as I grab the barbed wire at the very top. They dig into my skin, and I see blood dripping from my hands.
My instinct is to let go, but I fight against that. I still feel that invisible rope tugging me into the woods, and I can’t ignore it. Guards gather below me, some trying to climb the fence behind me while others pull weapons out of their holsters. But soonenough, my feet dig into the sharp wire, and I launch myself off the top.
I can’t explain what happens next. The feeling I’ve had in my chest for so long, the clawing that I never quite understood, grows stronger and stronger. Before I reach the ground, I feel it bursting out of me. The next thing I see is gray fur sprouting below me, like the paws of a dog. I look over my shoulder to see the guards all stopped, watching with their mouths wide open. My thoughts are chaotic, and all of my senses are heightened.
I don’t waste time. I run, feeling how fur covers every inch of my body, and my speed is vastly increased in whatever form it is I’ve taken.
I run until I can’t run anymore.
Chapter 2
Zeke
"I swear,I see you once a week, but it’s like you’re bigger every time!" Tara hesitates before reaching out to touch Nora’s swollen belly. "Can I?"
"Go right ahead," Nora answers with a smile.
"You are going to be so spoiled," Tara promises. "I am going to be the best aunt in the entire world."
Kyran—Tara’s mate—winds his arms around her from behind, and I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
I love my siblings, and I am so happy for my younger brother, Cole, and his twin, Tara, for finding their mates, but I can’t help feeling sad about not having found mine.
Cole groans dramatically. "Could you please not spoil my kid too much?” He keeps talking, and my siblings laugh and chat, but my mind is a million miles away. The weird feeling from earlier is getting stronger.
Lifting my hand, I rub my chest where it feels like something is pulling me forward. Looking out the window, I think about going on another run.
That always clears my head. Right now, sitting around all of these happy couples, that feels better than feeling sorry for myself.
When I turn back to my siblings, I realize Tara is staring at me with a worried look in her eyes.
"What were you talking about?" I ask, sensing that I’ve missed part of the conversation.
Declan notices, too. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."
"It’s your turn to cook dinner," Cole informs me before I have time to respond. "Remember? You’re going to cook for everyone tonight?"
Right. Nearly every week, we have a big family dinner. We always shift responsibility for who’s supposed to cook it. Over the years, we’ve learned everyone’s specialties, and mine just so happens to be carbonara.
How could I have forgotten so easily?
"I can do it, if he doesn’t mind," Tara offers, giving me a soft smile.
