Page 47 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

Because she might see me. And she’s scared enough.

I shove through another thicket and scrape my arm, don’t even flinch. The adrenaline’s drowning everything but the need tofind her.

She’s not just a camper.

She’smycamper.

These kids—damn, I didn’t ask for them. I didn’t come to this camp thinking I’d care this much.

But somewhere between Nolan’s dragon-fire meltdowns, Rubi’s spaghetti bracelets, and Ferix asking me if boys were allowed to cry—I fell for all of them.

I love them.

Every loud, magical, messy one.

And Mira?

She’s the softest. The smallest. The kid who always sits closest during ghost stories and clings to the dock like she’s trying not to float away.

And now she’s lost. In the woods. On a storm night. With themoonabove us.

I grit my teeth, panting. My body is hot, wild, close to breaking.

Not yet.

I can’t shift.

Not until she’s safe.

I press my forehead to a tree and breathe through the howl building in my throat.

“I’m coming, kid,” I whisper.

No matter what.

I stumble down a slope slick with moss, chest heaving. Every inch of me burns. The pressure is unbearable now, thrumming through my jaw, my spine, down to my fingertips where the claws are starting to edge out.

And then I hear her.

“Alice.”

No—not in my head. Real.

She crashes through the brush, flashlight in hand, eyes wide and wild.

“Jason?” she breathes. “I heard you yelling—what’s going on?”

I freeze.

Every cell in my body goes still and thenflares.Her scent—fresh and clean and sharp with fear—hits me like a drug.

And the moon—damn it, the moon isright there,pulling me open.

My voice comes out low and broken. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She steps closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I saiddon’t.” I stagger back, hand outstretched, trying to keep her away.

---