The air in the university courtyard was freezing, a bitter winter wind sweeping through the concrete plazas and bare-branched trees, but Avery felt as if her skin was actively on fire. She walked fast, the heavy soles of her combat boots crunching loudly, aggressively against the gravel. She was desperately, almost frantically, trying to put physical distance between herself and the lecture hall. Each breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, blooming into thick white clouds that dissolved into the frosty air before her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached, cursing her own vulnerability, cursing the sheer, terrifying weakness that had just exposed her. For years, she had survived in the brutal, unforgiving margins of the werewolf world as a packless rogue b
