Fuck.
My whole body freezes, my eyes now clamped tightly shut.
It’s just someone’s dog, right?
Someone out for a walk in the middle of the night in the woods.
Yeah, right, who does that?
Serial killers, that’s who.
Jesus, Morgan. Just open your fucking eyes.
It’s harder than it should be to force my eyes open. Even with the moonlight, it takes a few seconds for my vision to adjust. And then I immediately wish it hadn’t.
What the actual fuck?
Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe this is like one of those waking dreams where everything seems real but isn’t.
That’s got to be it, because what else would explain the four fuckingwolvesstaring back at me? I mean, I think they’re wolves. They look like wolves, but this is England for god’s sake. They can’t be, right?
Someone’s probably got some big, and probably illegal, dogs.
And they’re all watching me.
My pulse races, heart pounding so loud it’s like a drum solo in my head. It takes all my willpower, but I manage to tear my gaze off them and scan the forest for a torchlight or anything to suggest they’re just pets out for a midnight stroll.
But there’s nothing.
I swallow, but there’s no moisture to be found in the desert my mouth’s become. “You’re not gonna eat me, right?” Nervous laughter follows that ridiculous statement, but the wolf directly opposite me cocks its head to the side like it’s considering my question, and I swear the other three aresmiling.
And then the wolves are gone.
In their place stand four very naked, very huge, and disturbingly familiar men.
My heart stops.
Literally stops beating for what feels like years, before setting off at the speed of light.
I can’t find words, can’t form a single thought in my mind, because...
No.
I shake my head, like that’ll make it all go away, and it’s met with mocking laughter.
“Well, look who it is.” Birch leers down at me, gaze lingering on my exposed throat, and I instinctively sink more into my sleeping bag.
More laughter.
I don’t know the names of the other three, but they’re the ones from the pub the other day. The ones who challenged the Wild Wolves.
Oh my god.
Wild Wolves, Feral Beasts.
My mind races a mile a minute, but it can’t be true. Their names can’t be literal, right?
Right?
