Reeva POV
I slam the cottage door behind me, and the hinges rattle in protest. I yank at my clothes as though they are snakes biting into my skin. The panic in my chest is a live thing, thrashing, snarling, and demanding escape. My hands shake violently as I strip naked, shift and run into the woods.
The forest blurs as I sprint through it. My paws tear at the ground, and still, I want to go faster, to run away from my thoughts, because if I allow myself to think, I will feel it. The loss of my baby, the loss of everything I loved, and now, the possible loss of Wyatt.
“We should attack,” Harper howls for blood. “Kill them. Rip their throats out. End it.”
“I agree,” I reply. “But are you strong enough?”
“I will be,” she insists. “We got in to get Wyatt; we can do it again.”
“Reese and
