CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
My breath comes in sharp gasps, the kind that rasp and claw their way up my throat as I run through the dense underbrush. My paws pound against the earth, a rhythmic thunder that syncs with the pounding of my heart. The rogue wolves are a snarling mass of fur and fangs, and they're gaining.
"Shift!" I hear the command echo through my mind, the mental link with my pack urging me on.
I don't hesitate. With a surge of energy, my body contorts, bones shifting, skin stretching, until I stand on two legs—a barrier between the rogues and my pack. The Silver Paws are family, the only family I've ever known, and I'll burn the world before I let them get hurt.
The rogues halt, taken aback by the abrupt change. Their eyes—wild, ruthless—fixate on me, and I feel the familiar stir
