“You don’t feel it?” he asks. “You’re going into heat again.”

12

ANNIE

Run!

Yes. Don’t need to tell me twice. I’m already gone.

I leap from the swing, landing hard, jarring my ankles, and I bolt, sprinting past the banked ashes of the females’ fire, deaf from the blood rushing in my ears.

Heat.

No.

Hell no.

Faster!

I cut across the packs’ curving, worn paths, making a beeline for the exit, pushing harder and harder until every muscle in my legs screams. As I pass the bonfire, I hear a male say, “Alpha?” But by the time the sound reaches me, I’m yards away.

Don’t look back!

I won’t. I feel Justus on my heel, his breath hot on the back of my neck.

My gown comes untucked, so I gather the fabric and clutch it to my chest, freeing my legs to pump faster. The pecking voice shrieks in my brain, dragging memories from the back of my brain to flog me with so I’ll go faster.

My brown flannel shirt, sweat soaked and reeking of cum.

A sad nest of dry leaves.

The cold, rushing river.

What a sad female you are.

I don’t want such a pathetic coward for a mate.

What would my pack say if I brought you back?

You smell more like food than female.

You stink like prey.

A female like you would make weak, spindly young.

I want to puke, but I don’t dare slow down, not even a little so I can bend over and retch. Justus’s steps thud behind me.

I reach the narrow camp entrance and burst through, instantly losing my footing on the steep, rocky trail that leads down to the woods below. My arms windmill as I desperately try to find my balance. Justus growls.

“Easy, easy,” he says, so close, too close.

I don’t have time for balance, so I lurch forward, surfing the loose pebbles down the slope, keeping upright by staggering from tree trunk to boulder. Almost at the bottom, I trip on an exposed root and crash to a knee. I cry out, scrambling forward on all fours until I can scrabble back to my feet.

I’m out of my mind, and I can’t stop.

Sightless eyes.

Green and white checkered tiles.