Don't Look Back

The wolves were coming closer. Their mouths and jaws snapping hungrily as they ogled at my pale flesh through half- closed eyes. All of them had different coloured eyes, and different coloured fur. The only one i payed attention to was the left-centre. His fur was a beautiful, syrupy gold colour, the exact hue of smooth honey. His eyes, they were intoxicating. The moment i looked into them, i felt myself drawn into an in-between universe. They were the colour of ice, and tiny flecks of gold and platinum in them. He was terrifying.

Alannah Grace is terrified of wolves. Especially since her sister, Piper, was almost murdered by the pack skulking around Wintershade woods. When she stumbles upon a familiar family friend in Rio De Janeiro, she grows suspicious about the wolves. Will she uncover the secret they have been so painstakingly tried to conceal for centuries? Or will she be consumed by their black hole of secrets and, as hard is it might be, the truth?


1. Prologue




   The dried, crisp autumn leaves crackled under the surrendering footsteps of Piper Grace. The wind swirled around her, the cold air biting and snapping at the mostly bare skin of her face and arms. She wrapped her cardigan around her tighter, but the thin layer of soft fabric did nothing to shield her from the raw wind. The pace of her steps hastened, she was almost running. Her long, dirty blonde hair whipped out behind her and the growingly vicious wind ripped her cream beanie off of her head: The girl barely noticed the ever- careful padding of soft, ferocious paws that tracked her carefully. Her hands were no longer tugging at her cardigan, they had surrendered to pumping up and down as she accelerated to a near- sprint as soon as the sound of paws grew louder, and closer. She was going to get caught. She shrugged her heavy backpack off, and was finally allowed to sprint. But alas, the large root of a tree seemed to creep out of the ground from nowhere and she stumbled over it, shrieking. Her screams erupted from her body as the pack of wolves neared her, their jaws snapping at her. The alpha, she assumed, was the closest. He had a coat of long, soft fur that Piper was tempted to stroke and bury herself into. It was the precise colour of ink spilt over newsprint, the black was not complete and light traces of soft, creamy brown added to his coat made him look all the more stunning and terrifying.

   One particular wolf was keeping his distance from the young girl. He was the smallest and well, fluffiest of the pack. He looked young, compared to the others at least. He was even more beautiful than the inky alpha. Her gaze was torn from his when she was nudged roughly by Alpha. The rest of the wolves approached her, their fathomless, machiavellian eyes boring into her soul, her heart. It was like they could read her mind. A single, salty tear trickled down her cheek. The wolves were not deterred from their attack by this, and they sprang onto her. She tumbled down the slope behind her, the wolves clinging mercilessly to her, their teeth slicing through the flesh of her arms, her stomach and jean-clad legs. Her head was flung back when she reached the base of the hill, much like when you are on a roller coaster and your skull jerks back as you speed down a particularly steep drop. But worse. Her occipital lobe collided with the edge of a jagged rock, and the wolves descended on her once again. An almighty gunshot echoed around the woods, and the beasts backed away from Piper, exchanging worried glances. They turned on their tails and ran into the centre of the woods, where safety waited for them. 

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