Running through the Sierra Madre forest is supposed to be a chore, but with Luis, I find it exciting, delightful even, that I start to ignore my injured ankle. It’s not as painful as yesterday. I’m sure the doctor is lying about a week of rest.
I take a deep breath of air. It’s been a while since I’ve been in my werewolf form, hunting with Reid does not require me to shift. All I need is my voice and everything becomes easy—dangerous for Reid though.
But instead of going straight to the pack house, I follow Luis on a different path. It is untrodden. No visible roads, but I can see signs of werewolf presence.
Luis stops at a clearing, where a few meters from us is a cemented house–two floors and with a balcony on the second floor. He shifts back to his human form and saunters toward an o
