Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 93

“Are you okay?” Max’s voice is laced with concern, but it feels distant, as if coming from underwater.

“Cramps,” I manage to gasp out, each word spiked with agony. The transformation is close, too close. My vision blurs, trees and sky merging into a spinning carousel of colors. I must get him to safety before-

“Which way, Bree?” Max’s question slices through my disorientation.

I blink hard, trying to clear the fog in my head. “This way–no, wait.” Every direction looks the same, foreign and twisted. We’re lost, wandering aimlessly as precious minutes trickle

away.

“Damn it,” I curse under my breath. I grab his hand and continue to drag Max through the forest. My heart pounds in time with our racing footsteps. The crunch of twigs beneath our feet seems unbearably loud on this quiet night when I hear other wolves howling, and I know they can sense me; my pheromones are off the charts.

“Stick close to me,” I order him, my voice laced with an urgency that has him nodding silently, all protests forgotten.

The moonlight streams down through the gaps in the canopy, casting a path for us to follow. I try to stay in the shadows of the trees, knowing that the moonlight touching me may force the shift I am barely controlling. We weave in and out of the shadows, the dense undergrowth pulling at our clothes as if

Chapter 93

snaps under Max’s foot, the sound echoing eerily as I cast a nervous glance

and his growing panic. It seems now he is realizing the mistake he made by coming to find me. His grip on my hand tightens, and he shakes my hand for reassurance that I’m struggling to give when the howls

too late. The

bones start shifting beneath my flesh. Every muscle burns as though exposed to

etched across

he asks, his voice trembling slightly. But I can’t answer him. The pain is blinding now.

jumping at the sound of my beast coming forward.

as hard as I can. I send him sprawling into a pile of leaves near a

Chapter 93

218Vouchers

have time to comfort him or explain again why he needs to stay away from

against my skin, and I feel it–the

word is a growl, torn from a