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FOURTEEN

I run down the hill as fast as I can go, slipping and sliding on the loose rocks.

Please don’t be Patrick.

Please don’t be Patrick.

“Rylie!” Val calls after me. “Slow down!”

She thinks I’m plowing head first into danger.

Perhaps I am.

But I have no choice.

If my mate is in danger, I must go to him.

I must help him.

I can’t lose him.

I push through the leafy undergrowth, clambering over dead branches and barking my shins on the rocks.

I am so close now.

Then I hear the howl again.

He’s close.

I push myself harder, faster.

Brambles scratch at my arms and legs, but I hardly feel them.

“Rylie!” Val calls after me. “Wait!”

I ignore her.

I’ll just have to hope that if I run into trouble, she’ll be there to help me.

The howls are coming from the clearing.

Our clearing.

Mine and Patrick's.

Panic grips me.

The howl comes again.

I can tell by how clear it is that whoever is howling, they're in trouble.

More than ever, I want to be with my mate.

I pick up my pace, push
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