Reed POV:
But her scent — light, floral, faintly cinnamon — headed west.
Smart girl. Most wolves would chase the others down the obvious trails.
She'd gone off course.
I took off again, weaving through pine and mud, scenting the air every few paces. Her fear was spiked. Her adrenaline sharp. But there was no blood yet.
Good.
The full moon was beginning to rise now. A silver glow crept across the forest floor like spilled mercury.
And with it — the first howl.
My blood chilled. That was the signal.
The Hunt had begun.
Dozens of howls echoed in reply. Wolves had shifted. The warriors were running now. Fangs bared. Hearts thudding. Tracking every step, every breath, every splash of human scent left in the dark.
They were coming.
And I was running out of time.
BLAZE — POV
I should've ripped Reed's throat out when I had the chance.
