Megan's POV
The night air was cold and it bit my flesh as I staggered back into the camp. I was still reeling from the events at the shrine, including the voice that sounded ominous warnings in my thoughts and the surge of power. As I tightened my cloak about myself, my hands shook, but despite my best efforts to relax, I couldn't get rid of the sensation that something had altered inside of me.
I was unable to inform Scott. He would never comprehend.
He was standing there, his eyes darting across the treeline, perhaps searching for me, as I passed the campfire. Guilt made my stomach turn, but I was unable to discuss this with him. How could I describe the voice alerting me to the danger or the strength I sensed? He would never trust me. Even worse, he might believe that I was starting to pose a threat to the pack.
"Where have you been?" When Scott saw me, he called out. There was worry in his voice. "I've been concerned."
