Good.
The kitchen corridor still held the day’s warmth.
The ovens banked low.
A couple of sleepy assistants wiped down tables, too tired to notice a cloaked figure slipping by the back door.
The night air hit my face like a slap.
Cold.
Clean.
Alive.
I pulled the cloak tighter around my shoulders and stepped into the dark.
The moon hung higher now, silvering the tops of the trees.
Shadows stretched long and deep between trunks.
Every instinct screamed at me to turn back.
Behind you is a cursed Alpha who at least *tries* not to hurt you. It hissed. Ahead is a man who smiled at you from a border like you were dessert.
I walked forward anyway.
“If I’m walking into the wolf’s jaws,” I whispered to the night, “at least this time, I’m the one deciding.”
The path to the ravine wasn’
