Devon
Slinking through the forest’s underbrush, I try my best to stay hidden in the shadows. I need to leave Ivory Fangs before it’s too late. A twig snaps somewhere behind me, and I freeze, attempting to calm my rapidly beating heart while I try to sense the person who has been watching me. When I sense nothing, I breathe a sigh of relief and bolt to the right, hopefully getting closer to the edge of the pack’s territory.
Some time last night I had felt a pair of eyes watching my every movement. It was during dinner at the packhouse. Grace and I had just reported to Luan Dan what role we would like in Ivory Fangs, and we were plating up some dinner when I felt the prickling sensation of being watched wash over me.
For a moment, I thought it was residual paranoia from dealing with Kazi
