Book 12: Don't Lose Your Head

Aviva

The forest shifts from endless shadows to an assortment of pale gold as the sun rises. I’m sprinting in my wolf form, Ryan not far behind in his. There was no reason for him to shift into his beast, thank goodness. He’s actually slower in that form than his wolf, but we’ve covered serious ground in the two hours since leaving Silverhide. 

Forty miles, in fact. A new record. 

Panting, I reach the far edge of the forest that weaves through the tribal territories of the Deadlands. Behind us, the packs of Silverhide and Endova are just waking up for the day. Ahead of us, the sun hasn’t even begun to touch the towering mountains to the far west, where my new powers showed me a glimpse of Maeve and Logan. 

I’m still getting used to the prickle of energy that wasn’t there before. It’s now the air I breathe–the blood rushing through my veins–the rhythmic thump of my heartbeat. 

I’m changed; for better or worse, I don’t