Olive's POV
I found myself going to the one person I never imagined I'd ever run to. The one werewolf who shouldn't be given a second chance.
I asked for help from another betrayer. Alpha Dave of Greenwood.
"Can you please identify yourself?", a werewolf with a sharp spear drawn out.
"Luna Olive of Bluemoon pack", my voice was firm and unwavering.
The guard perked up at the name. He stared me down, probably weighing if I was lying. I wasn't really dressed like Luna, instead, I resembled a fighter. Black combat boots now caked in mud and dead leaves, with a black leather trousers and matching jacket and an army green shirt. A backpack was slung across my shoulders.
In case the outfit wasn't enough, I had walked all the way from Bluemoon to Greenwood for help.
Dave was my only resort
