Penelope POV
“Get back, Penelope!”
Leif snaps his arm out. His fingers dig into the meat of my shoulder, ripping me backwards onto the cracked tarmac of the car park.
“That is him! The Rogue! He is out!”
The shout comes from somewhere near the petrol pumps. It is a wet, desperate screech that cuts straight through the heavy Heliport air.
Then the wall of bodies hits us.
It is an instant, suffocating wave of heat and fur. The smell of wet earth and aggressive, untamed pheromones fills my throat. Cameras click like a swarm of locusts. White light flashes against the bonnet of my car, blinding me.
“What do we do?” I hiss. My teeth grind together so hard my jaw aches. I grab the rough fabric of Leif’s jacket, my nails sinking into the seams. “Leif, they will tear us apart.”
“Watch me,”
