Tangled

77 Ava: Running

The haunting howls of wolves echo through the night, sending fear deep into my soul.

I shudder.

The strange shifter with the drugs curses under his breath. “They’re on the hunt,” he says, his voice low and urgent.

Lucas‘ arms tighten as he runs. It’s not the most comfortable, with all the jostling, but he manages to run while holding me as though my extra burden

doesn’t affect him at all.

How long has it been? Hours? That he’s maintained his pace without faltering. I can’t help but admire it, even

as I worry.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, his tone cold with

determination.

We pick up the pace, the shadows of the forest

seeming to press in around us as we hurry along. The howls grow louder, closer, sending icy tendrils of fear slithering through my veins.

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77 Ava: Running

“How much farther?” I ask, my voice a hushed whisper.

Lucas‘ subordinate’s response is grim. “Too far to be comfortable.” There are a few grunts of agreement among the other wolves. “We should have shifted. We would be there by now.”

Lucas just growls. “Not an option.”

The weight of his words settles over me, and I realize with a pang that he knows–he knows I can’t shift.

I swallow hard. How long has he known?

It isn’t as though it was a secret in our pack.

But it still hurts.

trees, the sound itself nipping at our heels. Anxiety spikes my pulse and I

our left, and Lucas‘ head whips around. He signals to the others, and

1. us.

in the air, thick and palpable,

forest seems to hold its

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77 Ava:

in this

eyes glowing like embers in the darkness.

flinch. With a fluid motion, he sets me down and steps forward, planting himself between the wolf

growls, his voice laced

wolf hesitates, its hackles raised, but something in Lucas‘ unwavering presence seems to give it pause. For a long, tense moment, they

and it lowers its head in a grudging show of

spare it a second glance. He turns back to me, his expression softening ever so slightly as

says, like that’s nothing.

his arms until he lets me down. “I can’t shift,

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77 Ava: Running

time if you

wants to protest, but he thinks better of it. “Fine. Let’s go. Stay close, Ava. Vester will

howl. I nod. “Okay.”

our trail, but they’re getting closer. We’re still five miles

squeezing it in reassurance. My lips quirk into a small smile as I squeeze

I

feet from the ill–fitting sneakers is a distant concern. My heart pounds, but not from exertion–not yet. Terror still grips me, its

Freedom.

legs to push harder, faster. The men around me struggle to keep pace, their harsh pants filling

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77 Ava Running

warns, his brow

concern.

breath for a reply. Selene’s words ring in

run. She’d made it sound like

I did.

And it is.

can feel it now, a thrumming beneath my skin, like electricity

I say, knowing deep inside that I’m

falters, and he grips my arm, pulling me -to an abrupt halt. His eyes bore into

FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt

shadows and silence.

he nods.