Lara
I ran until my legs nearly gave out—God, I wanted to give out. My lungs burned, my heart thudded so hard it echoed in my ears like war drums. But the howls kept rising behind me, their pitch sharpening, urgent and raw. Echoes bouncing off the trees. Closing in fast.
And no matter how far I'd drifted from my wolf roots, how much I’d tried to bury that side of me under human routine and stubborn ignorance—I knew exactly what those howls meant.
They were coming for me.
For the scent I was emitting.
Funny—I couldn’t even smell myself. My own scent was locked behind the wall of panic and heat clouding my senses. But I remembered the lessons. From back when we were pups still learning how to shift without snapping bones. When a she-wolf enters heat, she emits a scent. One meant for her
