ana

nting the sky in bruis

ed into two suitcases. My car

one last thi

tree, centuries old, where pack lovers carved their initials. It was a

d stupidly in love, I had carved

ow. The letters wer

et. The handle was leather, but the

n like acid. But it was the only thing t

where my skin brushed the metal guard

ted to

ra

chips

ra

re you

e voice. Jax. And the gi

I said, gouging the w

top it! That's silver! Y

d, slashing the kni

shocked by

g, a muddy patch of land that separated

ard. "She's crazy, Ja

A boy who thought he was a god, and a g

you from my emergency contacts.

s voice dropping to that danger

nd sto

sh me this time. She stomped on my bad

erked back. My b

, sliding down

mud was thick, smelling of rot and decay. It coated

standing on the high gr

overed in filth. H

. "You belong in the mud. Stay there a

took Catalina's han

me in th

ng the cold seep into my skin.

en, I

eat in

t

wasn't mine. It was a

t.

. My knee screamed, but I ignored it. I crawled u

, dripping

ials were destroyed. Only a ja

he silver burn was bli

" I wh

ok back at the Pack House. I didn't

ugh the gates, leaving the Iron Claw

n't pa

ke a chain

meet again. Because the next time you

York, toward the unknown, toward th