Michaela
Henry had stopped replying to my messages.
We were getting closer and closer to his pack’s territory. What had happened to give him second thoughts? This was our only chance.
I pushed us forward even faster, switching busses, badgering drivers. But as the day wore on, I realised something else was wrong.
Gabriel was sick.
His earlier feverish flush and weariness had only gotten worse. Then he’d lost his appetite and vomited up the snacks I gave him. His eyes grew wet and inflamed, his nose dribbling – but it was when his worsening coughs turned into wheezing breaths that I really became afraid.
I rushed off the bus at the next stop and booked us a night in the first motel I could find. By then, Gabriel felt unnaturally hot in my arms, and slumped semi-conscious on the
