My wolf stepped another inch closer to me, and then, inexplicably, it stopped.
I peeked open my eyes.
It had entirely frozen, eyes on mine. It panted its breath. Its muscles tensed like it was holding itself back.
I didn’t dare hope but…
“Do you… remember me?” I asked.
It stepped back and a whimper escaped the back of its throat.
“Oh, my wolf,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry. You are so good, fighting so hard.”
It closed its eyes and turned from me. I couldn’t see inside of its head, but I imagined it was fighting with Jane for control.
My heart broke for my wolf. How many terrible things had it been forced to do at Jane’s command? Had it resigned itself over the years? Or had it always fought back, trying and failing again and again to keep Jane from being the terrible person she was.
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