Peach got up and grabbed the door frame. She pulled herself inside. Her legs felt weak. Her hands were shaking.
The room was dark and cold. The bed was messy. The sheets were twisted. The pillow still had the mark from her head.
She walked to the bed and sat down. The mattress creaked. She pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders. She looked at the door. It was still open. The hallway was empty.
She reached out with her foot and pushed the door. It swung slow and clicked shut.
Peach sat on the bed holding the blanket close, then her face started to burn like the scars were waking up, a deep ache that pulsed under her skin and made her eyes water. She pressed her palm to her cheek but the pain was inside, not something she could touch away.
Her body jerked and her wolf tore throug
