“Yeah,” she says. “I believe it. You’re a hybrid like me. We’re the same. I trust you.”
I know how lucky I am that, after Nate’s betrayal, she can still find the strength to trust me.
I wrap my arms around her and let the moonlight in, letting it do its magic, hoping it will heal our broken hearts.
Chapter 44
EMLYN
Iprowlthewoodsa short distance from where Milo is hunting, hoping that I can unearth some small game and chase it toward him. We’ve known each other for such a short time—only two days, really—but it feels like much longer. Maybe the stress of Nate’s betrayal is bringing us together or something.
Anyway, the upshot is that hunting with him already feels like something I’ve been doing my whole life. And I’m eager to lose myself in it, to forget the breakdown I had last night. That was a little embarrassing.
Because really, who cares about Nate? I don’t. I let myself start to care about him for a moment there, but I’ve known all along that he was a cocky son of a bitch. He’s never dealt honestly with me.
I’mluckyhe’s gone.
I startle a chipmunk and try to drive it in Milo’s direction, but it dodges away. Of course. I’m not on my game today.
I take a deep breath and refocus.
A squirrel bolts out of a bush. It’s running straight at me, wide-eyed and intimidated, and I know immediately that this is Milo’s doing.
Perfect.
I throw myself into the squirrel’s path and catch it around the neck with my teeth. A quick shake of my head snaps its neck, and I drop it to the ground and sit back, satisfied with my kill.
Milo comes trotting up. He doesn’t look quite at home in his wolf body—he doesn’t move naturally. It’s as if this is something he learned to do, rather than something that was born in him. I guess that’s what comes of not growing up in a pack and having to learn how to shift in secret.
It really is like he’s the exact opposite of me—I have magic, but I’m a total novice at it. He has his wolf, but he hasn’t mastered how to use it.
I shift back to human form as a sign to him that it’s all right to do the same. We’ve got our prey now. There’s no need to stay animal. Ordinarily, for something like squirrel, I would just eat in my wolf form—squirrel meat doesn’t taste so good to a human tongue. But I want him to be comfortable.
“Can you make us a fire?” I ask him, digging a set of clothes for each of us out of my backpack.
He nods and catches the garments I throw at him. He tugs the pants on, then starts to collect some firewood.
“Hey! A couple of wolves!”
My head jerks up. I don’t recognize the voice, but I’m immediately moving into a combat stance—squatting slightly, my hands up, positioned back to back with Milo. I can’t see him behind me, but I can sense where he is physically, and I realize how reassuring it is to have someone at my back when we’re in danger.
Are we in danger?
Three figures drift out of the trees. They’re tall and slender, all three of them, with hair as dark and slick as oil. But the physical feature that draws my eye the most is the matching scar on each of their faces.
I recognize that right away, even though I have no idea who these men are.
The scars are in the shape of one of the sigils I saw painted in blood on the wall of the building I explored with Nate. It’s the one that looked like a stemmed glass.
I’ve obsessed over those signs since I first saw them. I would know them anywhere.
“What are you wolves doing in our forest?” one of the newcomers asks.
“You don’t own the forest,” Milo says.
“You’re Moon Casters,” I say. “Aren’t you?”
“Oh, never mind this,” one of them says. “Let’s just kill them! We’ve got them outnumbered.”