Chapter 9 · TheScent of a Debt

Three nights in the Border Woods. Mud was the only thing keeping me alive.

I shoveled another handful of muck against my throat, hiding the pulse kicking under my skin. It was cold enough to bite. Grit stuck between my teeth. I smeared the rest down my neck and into the creases of my elbows. I’d heard a wolf’s nose targets the soft places first.

Behind me, a howl ripped through the dark.

My body betrayedme before my brain could stop it. A pull low in my gut. Stupid. Hungry. Three nights of exile and mytraitorous heart still ached for him.

*He doesn’t want us.*

“Shut up,” I hissed. To the night. To myself.

I pressed into the root ball of a fallen oak,making myself small. Wet bark, rotting leaves, and the sour tang of my own terror. But underneath that? Somethingelse. A warmth. Something new.

The mark between my shoulder blades had scabbed over. It didn't look likea moon anymore; it looked like a burn a thumb had ground into my flesh. Every time the wind shifted, it pulled.