chapter 175

So we travel quickly, digging deep into our energy reserves to race headlong across state lines. Micro-naps and brief pauses to eat or drink are the only breaks we allow, and surprisingly, nobody falls behind. I assume the weaker shifters are still running on pure adrenaline.

Most of the adrenaline has faded by the time we cross the state line into Wyoming, but it doesn’t matter. We keep pushing anyway.

When we finally reach the Silver Crest pack’s boundaries two days later, a heavy feeling falls over the group. Felicity’s shifters slow, as if dreading to bring the news of her death to those left back home.

Many of the wolves limp or nurse wounds that have yet to fully heal, and it doesn’t take more than a glance to understand every one of them is completely demoralized by what happened. It’s late in the day, and although the last rays of the sun paint the buildings with a warm, glowing light, despair hangs around us like a weight in the air.

When pack members begin to emerge from the