CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The moon's glow filters through the dense canopy above, offering scant illumination as rough hands grip my arms and haul me forward. The forest blurs into a streaky collage of shadow and silver as I stumble over gnarled roots, my captors' urgency allowing no pause for grace. My heart thuds against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat that matches the pace of our nocturnal march.
We break into a clearing where the trees dare not encroach, the sky wide and observant. The group comes to a halt, and I'm pushed into the center of a circle formed by stern-faced werewolves. Their stances are rigid with purpose, eyes reflecting the moonlight with a predator's focus. I’m surrounded; escape is a fleeting dream.
"Word has spread about you, Lane," the one who seems to lead them—a burly w
