Hunter (Crescent Wolves Book One)

I was running, sprinting, racing. Sharp branches ripped at my hair and clothes, scratching my skin and clawing at me. I couldn’t stop; I knew what was coming, and it could not catch me. My heart drummed in my ears as my feet raced through the undergrowth, almost like the ground was trying to swallow me up. It was so dark, the little light in the forest growing dimer and dimer with every stride. I couldn’t breathe; I was suffocating. My long gown shined in the forest like a beacon in the night, its once beautiful silk long shredded and in bits. Something boomed in the forest behind me. Thunder? No. Thunder didn’t chase you. It was getting close. My body was on fire, spreading from my lungs to my legs, slowing me and tripping and stumbling now when I needed my senses most. The trees didn’t snap behind me anymore; they were torn from the roots entirely, disappearing into the dark abyss surrounding me. This was it; my legs gave out, and I was thrown onto the damp forest floor. My hands sank into the wet moss and sticks. At once, there was silence. Nothing but the sound of my racing heart. It was here with me watching. The tingles spread along my spine. Turning slowly – ever so slowly- to face the darkness and the red piercing eyes that awaited me there.