FREYA
Eli continues to pace in the cell, restless but without as much as word.
He goes back and forth, four steps and a turn, four steps and a turn, his shape moving in and out of the dark. He has been doing it for what feels like hours.
I sit against the cold wall with my knees drawn up and I watch him wear a path in the dirt, and the fear sits in my belly like a stone that will not melt.
Because I have done the math, and the math is bad.
No one knows we are here. We told the pack we were going east to pray. There is no one coming, because there is no one who knows to come.
If these wolves decide to kill us tonight, it could be weeks before anyone thinks to wonder, and longer still before they trace a cold trail to a hidden car at the edge of Ridgeback land, and that is only if the
