Ruby’s POV
The hardest part is letting go of my pride.
Three hours pass before my legs start to shake. The forest moves beneath us, roots and rocks snagging at my boots, leaves slick with old rain. Every step jars the bruises I pretend don’t exist.
“You’re limping,” Tyler says from ahead without turning.
“I am not,” I lie. “Besides, you can’t carry me like this if you’re all in wolf form.”
“Oh, we absolutely can,” Tyler says, grinning. “You are about to experience the finest transport method known to wolfkind: piggyback, but hairier.”
One of the larger wolves steps forward, shoulder brushing my hip. His fur is thick and dark, his back broad enough to carry a grown man. He crouches, waiting.
“Up,” Tyler says. “We will rotate. They can carry you longer and faster than any of us could
