Rachel lives and breathes the world of magic. As an heir to the throne of a secret werewolf culture, she stands in the doorway to the spirit world, staring in the face of things her pack can only imagine. That is the way. Her parents understand, as does the next Alpha, Andrew, her predestined soulmate. But when the scale is tipped out of balance, they're both placed in a race against time to save their pack and everything they have ever known, plagued by a question of morality: What is right? Or, more importantly, what's wrong?


16. Rachel


Somewhere in the blur of florescent lights and white walls, my eyes slipped shut.

And I was running.

My huge paws dug into the earth, my back legs driving me forward in powerful bounds as my front paws caught my weight, only to be flying away from the ground again. My heavy breath haunted the night as I was on the prowl, my nose tipped to catch the scent of my quarry. A deep-throated snarl curled on my lips, and I threw back my jaws to howl at the moon, signaling the trail.

Behind me, my Mistress Luna rode her white wolf, bred of her moonlight. She watched, her eyes only for my prey, as I thrust myself forward to catch this animal in my hungry maw. It was her command that turned my normal control to that of a rabid beast, merciless as I tore into the animal I had caught. I sniffed the poor creature, disappointed.

This was not my hunt.

I turned my nose to the wind again, running and running, on through the night. Through the forest I saw the sun, a place bright as day even in the world of Luna's grounds. My eyes were blinded, the pain making me howl at this light that was not my Lady's.

“Bring me their hides.”

Unable to see, I let my nose guide me to the prey she desired so fiercely. The taste of them in my mouth was strong, not revolting but not of anything I had ever scented before. It was a powerful flavor, that of a hunter and not the hunted.

From generations ago, before the civilization of these predators, I remembered this flavor. My ancestors hunted them from our moon-grounds when they came too close, they were the food when no other was available. They walked as we did without furs. Through the light, I recognized a shape.


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