Page 45 of Red

Knees sinking, I drop down a bit away from him. “The Elders . . .” My voice wavers.

“The Elders punished me that one time, and only out of respect did I let them. This time, I didn’t.”

Oh . . .

A slight shake trembles over me at the thought of Stark’s wolf form tearing those two men into pieces.

“I . . .” I have no words.

“Behave, Red.” He wraps his hand around the doorknob next to my side and the tingles flutter.

I step away from it as the door shuts. He’s gone.

Stark murdered his own pack members for me . . . that doesn’t happen.

Chapter 16

The room is sweltering. I lean out the window. Howls echo from the shadowed woods. The cold air doesn’t help, but I suck it into my lungs in a feeble attempt to cool the heat under my skin. Turning right now would ruin my entire plan. I pace the room for an hour, then walk out to the kitchen. The entire place is empty. Even the injured forced themselves out for the full moon.

Bag looped over my shoulder, I grip the keys inside my sweater pocket, reassuring myself. I have one chance to do this. Sliding out the front door into the winter air, my thoughts ease.

Not taking time to enjoy it, I go straight for my SUV. It’s black and looks small tucked beside a few trucks. I unlock the doors and take a seat. Starting it, I cross my fingers, and I sigh when the fuel light shows it’s near full. I shift into Drive and take off down the driveway.

My hands strangle the wheel. This is a wild but good plan. I need to stay on it.

As the winding road continues, I glance up at the moon ahead. It’s not going to be long.

I pull off the road and cut the engine. Getting out, the snow starts to pool at my feet. My legs sink knee deep as I work my way over the snowbank to find the thickest spot in the woods. The flames in my chest rage at my restraint, and I gasp as I turn.

The burning fades to warmth as I stretch out. My vision sharpens, rimmed with fur, and my ears brush the pine needles that fill my senses. This is what I have been missing. A wave of sadness hits my gut.

Avoiding the odds of running into anyone, I lay down, tucked against a group of trees. My red fur glows off the stripes of moon light that break through the treetops.

It’s not as good as going for a run or a swim in the summer, but I get to feel like myself. I tuck my nose into my tail for a moment of comfort before turning my ears and nose into focus.

Steps sound in the snow and grow closer, but they’re light and careful. If I run, I expose myself. Whatever it is, is less than a few trees away now. It smells like a fox. I stay still as it rounds a tree, and when the fox’s tail swishes, my chest relaxes.

Time ticks by slower than it did at Stark’s. When the moon shifts to a sliver not visible to the naked eye, I stand up, my back bending branches, and turn back to my two-legged self.

Rushing back to the confinements of my SUV, this is the beginning of what could turn into a life-ending mistake.

The tires crunch over the snow, and I speed up. All the roads look the same, and I’m not sure I’ve crossed the boundary line shown on Stark’s map until the air changes. With daylight, the trees grow thinner and the road gets wider. I haven’t been into Laketon, the human city, in over three years, but I expect everything to be the same.

Shifting in my seat, I yawn. A few high rises in downtown Laketon show across the horizon as I pass a few human homes back on from the road blanketed by crop fields. Unlike most of us, I never hated the humans until . . . well, four bullets changed my opinion. We use a lot of their things, like the music playing through my speakers. It’s why we came up with boundaries. So we respect and leave them alone, and they’re supposed to do the same.

After filling up at a gas station, I pull into one of the shopping center parking lots. It’s monstrous compared to anything we have at home. I adjust my sweater and walk to the doors. I might look a bit brave, not wearing any layers, but otherwise, I fit right in. The sliding doors open and I pull out a cart from the line up.

I pass a few people who smile as I pass them, ignoring the nerves that swirl in my stomach. I know I blend in, but it’s been some time since I was this surrounded by others who would lose it if they knew what I was.

Bright lights fill the pathway as I walk over to the outdoors section and throw in everything a hiker might need to look the part.

Last stop is the shoe section.

A lady comes to greet me at the wall of boots. “Can I help you find a something?”

“Something warm enough to hike in deep snow.”

“I know just the boots.”