Chapter 14 · The Warden's Blood

"She's bleeding."

Rex doesn't let go of my wrist. His fingers are hot—too hot—and I can feel his pulse hammering against mine.

I yank my arm back. "I'm fine."

"You're not." He grabs my sleeve and shoves it up. Blood smears from wrist to elbow, dark and wet. "One drop. That's all they need."

Another howl cuts through the trees. Closer.

Not behind us.

Ahead.

"Border station," Cain says. He's not even winded. "Half a mile."

"They'll know we're heading there," Aiden snaps.

"They know where we are anyway." Rex pulls me forward, off the deer trail and into thicker brush. Branches whip my face. My lungs are burning. "She's a beacon."

My wolf claws at the inside of my chest, trying to get out. Every time she pushes, the seal burns hotter.

"I can run," I say.

"Then run faster."

The border station rises out of the hillside like a scar—concrete bunker, rusted iron doors, slit windows black and empty. The kind of place packs used before territories got locked down and borders were drawn in blood.

Rex pulls a knife. "Could be occupied."

"It's not," Cain says.

"You sure?"

"No."

Aiden's already at the doors.