Chapter 95

That day felt like the longest in Netya’s life. The hours soon became a blur, fear and exhaustion bleeding together with the pain of her aching limbs to make every moment a trial unlike anything she had ever faced.

There were times when she ran, fearing the hunters would be upon her at any moment. Then she would slow down, creeping as silently as a shadow through the undergrowth, afraid that the slightest noise would give her away.

Every time she had to abandon the long grass and cross open ground her heart pounded in her ears, expecting to hear a cry of alarm go up behind her at any moment, or to feel a javelin pierce her vulnerable back.

She might have been less conspicuous without the white wolf’s pelt wrapping her body, but the warmth of the fur was one of the few comforts she had against the dampness seeping into her clothes and the chill of the clammy breeze. More than that, her wolf might be the only thing protecting her spirit from giving in to hopelessness