Page 28 of Red

The next biggest field is hours away, so that’s out of the question for now.

I lean back, stretching my neck to relieve the ache.

Eyelids fluttering, I start walking back, breathing in the forest smells. The distance is long at a walk, even with a bigger stride. Weaving back and forth, I take my time, enjoying the quiet of the winter forest. The ability to turn and explore every day will make this worth it. I can be me.

My steps sink deeper into the snow as my eyelids get heavier.

“Stop pushing yourself,” Pratt spoke through our connection. He knew how to block others out like me, being careful with his thoughts, but I can choose who hears mine.

“You said I’m not weak, so stop treating me like I am,” I retorted back.

I close my eyes at the memory. My ruby fur had shimmered like water in the sun rays as we laid in a spot between the summer trees.

I miss you, I think to him.

The silence back takes my breath away.

I wobble and cross my legs, brushing snow off a tree. It melts into my fur as I reach a different opening in the forest from where I turned. A little closer to home, my legs move slow. Running won’t be an option. I am ready to sleep until tomorrow or next week.

My nose twitches as the faint smell of wolf fills my senses.

Shit.

My paws grip into the earth below the snow. Breathing slow through my nose, I try to listen, but there are no voices or movement. I’m too far away from home to see it, but the scent is too strong in that direction. If they get a scent of me, they’ll be here in minutes. Adrenaline might give me enough to run. I pushed it earlier. Sometimes I hate that Pratt was right. The reminders in those stories front-lined my dreams for years. My heart pounds faster. This isn’t how I thought it would go.

A scoff fills my ears.

It’s only one wolf, I’m certain. I doubt it’s the two wolf-crazed assassins. I need to get closer.

There were some things Pratt knew best, and it’s time to take one from his book. I turn back, my red shorts and shirt twisted. I pull them right and start zigzagging back to the house. My senses lowered, the wolf scent is faint.

The sun is lowering into the trees, casting off an orange glow.

I tie up my hair, ready for a losing battle. I will not fight red and scar my brother’s name.

As I round the front of the property away from all my tracks, there is a faint sound of a wolf breathing. Moving closer to the trees, I peek around the rough bark edge, but two blue eyes stare into mine.

Fucking Stark.

My pulse relaxes until a growl grows from him, releasing hot breath into my face.

Red. I’m going to kill her.

Chapter 12

What a nice way to be greeted.

Can I outrun him? See, if I hadn’t listened to my brother, I maybe could without hitting any trees by now, but his stride must be huge. His dark claws dig into the snow less than a foot from my bare feet. I have no idea how he managed to find me without making a sound. His teeth could rip me in two pieces in one bite. There’s no healing if I’m dead.

I close my eyes and open them to his nose bumping into my arm. This is it. I have to fight.

Heat swarms me as Stark’s head turns, his white teeth showing out the side of his mouth. His coat is the most magnificent I’ve ever seen. I can’t be distracted. The heat flares, and I turn to book it, letting my legs carry me as fast as they can, the snow melting away before I reach it.

I skip all three stairs and curse for locking the door as I dig into the pot, grateful my limbs are still intact. The metal scrapes my fingertips, and I glance back to see Stark behind me.

He pushes me into the wall of the house, the cold wood rough against my bare legs. His hands wrap around both my upper arms, pinning me a foot off the porch floor. A heavy breath releases in the cool air between us. He thinks I’m so weak he turned into a person to kill me.

I’m sorry I failed you, I send out to Pratt, knowing he’ll never hear it.