I’m beginning to wonder if Rosa was right, Petra says. This part of the plan seems pretty risky.
The entire plan is risky, I counter. But deep inside me, I’m thinking the same. I’m being bound with coarse ropes by a wolf I don’t know, just under half a mile from the cabin. Graham stands off to the side, conversing in low tones with a tall, bearded wolf with a buzz cut and a neck tattoo. I assume that’s his Beta.
I don’t have to wonder for long, though. Buzz Cut comes over a minute later, looking me up and down.
“You look like someone slammed you through a windshield,” he notes.
“That would be because someone did,” I reply, wincing with each word. Rosa was having a hard time actually hitting me, so in the end, I convinced her to pick me up and smash through a windshield. Four Rivers has
