Running away from a mysterious wolf made of shadows and dark magic is probably not the most brilliant plan I've ever come up with.
Especially when my own wolf can't keep up. And I have no idea how far I should run. Too far and I risk more participants in this deadly chase. Not far enough, and my desperate ploy might be for naught if it turns back around after eating me.
Not a pleasant thought, but the reality is that I have no fucking clue how to fight this thing.
Have we confirmed it's Ivy's wolf? I blast the thought at Selene; talking is impossible right now. Running is the priority.
I swear I can feel the creature's breath on the back of my neck, but it's at least a hundred yards behind me. My magic can sense it; it's like eyes in the back of my head. Almost. Kind of.
Likely. We can't find Ivy.
Okay, it was a long shot to hope that this wasn't Ivy's wolf, but my heart still sinks—through all the pounding—to hear the confirmation.
