I had just experienced the most terrifying experience of my life. There were lots of times I felt near death, and my soul left my body, but this was by far the worst.
First off, I couldn't wrap my head around how I wasn't screaming my lungs out, when Allen grabbed my wrist with his ice-cold hands.
Alvin was wrong about that part. He wasn't frozen at all, but what did he mean by "help me"?
'How could I help?' I thought.
If my calculations were right, it meant that Allen had been in that state for about ten years, since the pack had to become a rogue camp in hiding. If there was something that could be done to help me, wouldn't Alvin have done it a long time ago?
I kept tossing and turning in bed, completely restless. I wasn't sure what my next action should be.
'Should I wake Al
