The cold night air hit me like a slap.
I stepped away from the packhouse lights and let the darkness swallow me whole. My pulse thundered in my ears. My wolf pushed hard against my skin, restless and furious, demanding space, demanding air, demanding freedom.
Everything inside me buzzed with too much energy.
Too much pressure.
Too many eyes.
The moment the last lantern glow vanished behind the trees, I broke into a run.
Branches whipped past me. Snow crunched beneath my boots. The forest swallowed the sound of the fading dinner hall, replacing it with the whisper of wind and the quiet rustle of small animals fleeing from my presence.
My breath fogged in the air. My lungs burned.
My wolf surged forward, guiding my steps, tugging at a direction I had not consciously chosen.
Left.
R
