On the way to Woodland, a growing unease gnawed at me, a cold knot tightening in my stomach.
It felt as if I was being led to the s*******r, a sacrificial lamb being prepared for some grand ritual. According to Elena, I should have been ecstatic, thrilled at the prospect of becoming the Luna of a pack as prominent and powerful as Woodland. There were countless she-wolves, she had reminded me, who revered him, who would give anything to be in my place, to bask in the reflected glory of his status.
But I just couldn't seem to muster any enthusiasm for my arrival at the pack.
On the contrary, every mile we traveled closer to Woodland, the urge to run, to flee as far as my legs could carry me, grew stronger. And to think, I had initially wanted to go to Woodland of my own accord, to see i
