Page 82 of The Wolf King

He is as large as a wild bear. His fur is black, making him at one with the shadows. His eyes, amber, glow in the darkness. He bares his teeth and growls. Adrenaline surges through my body, cracking the stone and uprooting my feet.

Run,my brain screams.

Just as the beast leaps, I turn.

I bolt out of the room.

I knock my shoulder against the door frame as I escape, veering into the opposite stone wall, then stumbling into the center of the corridor.

There’s a crash behind me. A gnashing of teeth.

My feet pound against the stone floor, propelling me forward. I do not know where I’m going. The night is dark. The corridors and stairways unfamiliar. Again, I am alone in a labyrinth of stone and shadow, and the beast is getting closer.

One word repeats in my mind, over and over again, as the sound of my heartbeat rages in my ears.

Run. Run. Run.

His claws scrape and clack against the flagstones. There’s a smash as he barges into a wall, knocking an unlit sconce from its holder. His growl vibrates through my chest.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

I reach a stairway.

The wolf crashes in front of me, skidding over the stone. I change course, and he blocks me again with his teeth bared. His heat swamps me as I veer in the opposite direction.

He is leading me further into the maze, herding me like the dogs on the farms do with the sheep before they are slaughtered.

Goddess, help me.

The walls close in as I sprint past them. My hair sticks to my face, and my body is drenched in sweat. My cloak constricts me. The air is hot. Claustrophobic.

I need to get out of here. I need to feel the wind, and taste the mountains. I need the freshness of the rain to touch my face, and I need to see the infinite sky—even if it is not my goddess that lights it tonight.

I don’t want to be herded into my own tomb.

I will not die tonight.

Something inside me screams.

Fight. Fight. Fight.

I hurl the silver letter opener over my shoulder. I don’t wait to see if I hit my target, though he is so big, surely I cannot miss. A crash, then an aggressive growl, fills my ears. I don’t pause. I wrench a large oil painting off the wall as I pass, partially blocking the path.

Ahead, there is the stairway that Callum carried me up when I arrived at the castle.

I almost fall in my haste to get down it, regaining my balance only when I reach the bottom. Then I’m in the entrance hall, and the wolf is behind me—but the doors are open and the night is ahead.

The wind rattles the walls, and it speaks to me.

Come. Come. Come.

My muscles screaming, I hurtle out into the deserted courtyard, then beyond the castle walls into the open wilderness.

The air has never tasted so fresh, and yet I am not safe. Not yet.

Heavy paws stir the wet earth behind me, and a growl is carried on the wind.

On one side of me is the loch, silver in the light of the moon. On the other, there is nothing but open space and the steep incline of the hill that Callum and I rode down when we arrived here.

---