SNARLS. HIGH-PITCHED shrieks of pain or terror. A shout from Carly: “No!”
I clawed my way back to reality with an effort. This wasn’t a dream. This was intrapack warfare. The Alpha’s Hunt. Precisely what Ruth had been trying to prevent by guiding her relatives toward formal challenges and stealing tokens from the sword maiden.
From me. I’d accepted the job; I needed to do it. Not continue drifting along with my eyes glued shut.
So I pressed hard against the emptiness inside me. Forced out the yearning for unattainable cinnamon. Blinked back dampness. Swiped a hand across my face to dislodge whatever gunk had ended up there. Focused at last on what actually existed right in front of my face.
I swallowed, trying to make sense of the fountain of red falling around me. Was that...?
Yep. I
