Claire's POV
Six bullets. I counted them again, just to be sure. Six f*****g bullets between me and a pack of pissed-off werewolves. Not exactly great odds.
I crouched lower behind the fallen log, my eyes fixed on the Eastern Howl Stone. It wasn't as big as the western one—more like a jagged tooth sticking out of the earth than a monument—but it hummed with something I could feel in my chest. A vibration. A presence.
My arm throbbed where the silver bullet had grazed me. Not deep enough to do serious damage, but enough to leave a trail of blood drops any wolf could follow.
"Real smart, Claire," I muttered to myself. "Get involved with werewolf politics. What could possibly go wrong?"
Kira's father's watch felt heavy on my wrist. The hidden compartment inside contained our only chance
