CHAPTER FIFTY
Leaves crunch underfoot as Logan and I emerge from the dense thicket, a shortcut we've taken countless times to slip unnoticed into the pack house. The familiar scent of home fills my lungs but it's laced with something foreign, metallic and harsh. It takes a second too long for the discord to register.
"Gunfire," Logan whispers, brown eyes wide, reflecting the silver gleam of the moon. He grabs my arm, his touch firm but reassuring. We race toward the sound, instincts overriding fear.
The crackle of dry leaves is drowned out by the staccato rhythm of automatic weapons. My heart hammers in sync with each burst of fire.
"SWAT team," I gasp, picking up on the tactical gear and assault rifles. They breach our sanctuary like steel wolves amongst flesh and bone.
Logan's hand
