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112. Hunted
~ RIG ~
Risky, risky, risky.
The word echoed in my head with every step as I darted through the neighborhood, slinking behind bushes and fences, hiding in the shadows, racing to cross streets only when I was certain there were no human eyes to catch sight of me.
Risky.
We never left the packhouse in our wolf forms. It was a rule I’d established from day one. This home would never be associated with big dogs, howling, or… any other strange occurrences. Yet, here I was, breaking my own instruction—and bringing my brother with me.
Mack had taken one look at me barreling through the house in my wolf, stripped down, and fol
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