Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 10: Grace: Great Escape

The beam of my flashlight flickers, casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. My heart skips a beat. Not now. Please, not now. I tap the plastic casing, and the light steadies.

Thank God.

A gust of wind whips through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine. The temperature's dropping fast. I fumble with my backpack, fishing out the extra sweater I'd snagged from the omega lodge. It smells of mothballs and desperation, but it's warm. I pull it over my head, grateful for the added layer.

My stomach rumbles painfully with hunger. I've sipped at water and snacked on jerky through the day, but my supplies are finite. I can't eat them too quickly.

I tear off a small piece of jerky with my teeth, chewing slowly. Like it's gum.

One foot in front of the other. That's all I can focus on now. My legs ache, muscles screaming for rest. My blisters tore open miles ago. But I can't stop. Not yet. I need to reach humans.

The river's behind me, its rushing waters a distant memory. I pray it's enough to throw them off my scent. Not forever—I'm not stupid enough to hope for that. I just need time.

Margo's probably realized I'm gone by now. The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me. Will they come looking? Part of me hopes they will. That someone, anyone, cares enough to wonder where I've gone.

But that's the old Grace talking. The one who still believed she belonged. I know better now.

"Let them forget about me," I mutter, though the words are bitter on my tongue. "It's what they've always wanted, anyway."

Okay, yeah. I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, but it isn't all hopeless.

The irony isn't lost on me. A week ago, the idea of being forgotten would have shattered me. Now? It might be my only chance at freedom.

would be a lie to say I have confidence in

flashlight barely penetrates the gloom. Shadows

a sharp reminder of how ill-equipped I am for this journey.

Though, no one ever expected me out on some sort of survival-level mission, so maybe it wouldn't

sprawling. The flashlight flies from my hand, clattering against a rock. The light flickers once, twice, then

I whisper, scrambling on hands and knees. My fingers brush against the cold plastic, and I shake it frantically. The light flickers back on, sending a

wolves, I can't see

I need this light.

clatters to my left and

for movement in the inky darkness

Nothing.

to calm. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and it takes

walking again, my pace a touch quicker

rustle in the underbrush to my right. I whip my head around, the

at the base of my

Grace. No one's following you.

thought should be comforting, but it

yelp escaping my lips before I can stop it. The noise seems to echo, bouncing

Pathetic.

it together," I mutter to myself. "You're not some helpless damsel. You can do

my veins. I stop dead in my tracks, ears straining to pinpoint the direction. It came from

They're not looking for me.