EMBER’S POV
The staff-guests are screaming, diving under the table, trampling each other toward exits.
I don’t understand what she did and I don’t have time to ask because the path to the door is clear and adrenaline is shooting up my spine and my wolf is screaming: RUN.
I run.
Barefoot, bleeding from where the guards’ nails bit into my arms, the red dress but I hold on desperately to it like a towel, even as it flows behind like a cape.
I hit the lodge doors at full speed and the cold slams into me and I don’t feel it because Sapphire is in my veins now, lending me her heat, her speed, her ancient and furious refusal to be caged.
The compound grounds blur past me — the cabins, the hot springs steaming in the dark, the tree line approaching with agonising slowness.
Behind me the lod
