Chapter 2

Lyra POV

I laughed at the comment, but the tension built in my shoulders. I hated when my need to run was apparent to humans, like my true nature would be blown at any minute.

Louie shook his head with a snort. “Get outta here already. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Thanks!” I fiddled with my apron, and it landed with a clunk on the counter.

Louie raised an eyebrow at me.

I laughed sheepishly, pulling my tips from the pockets.

Oh yeah, I kind of needed those.

With a wave, I was out the door. I didn’t have a car, but luckily, I found someone willing to rent a small room over their garage a mile away. The journey was quick, probably because I ran for most of it.

Once inside, I threw my tips into a shoebox I kept stashed under my bed. Not the best hiding place, but this tiny town wasn’t known for theft. And it was a hell of a lot safer than where I had spent most of my life.

I peeled off my work clothes, leaving them rumpled in the corner. I didn’t bother to shower, knowing by morning I’d be covered in dirt and leaves anyway, and threw on a summer dress with no underwear. It was simple, easy, and would cover me up long enough to get to the woods. That was all I needed.

A short quarter mile jog brought me to the edge of the forest. The woods sprawled across three peaks and hid a series of valleys. Reds and ambers tumbled around me as the earthy scent of the wild filled my nose. With each step my body relaxed. My bare feet sank into the leaf-littered ground, and my eyes closed with a sigh.

Home, my wolf whispered inside of me.

My pace quickened until I found my usual boulder pile to stash my clothing in. It didn’t take long for my wolf to burst forward the moment the fabric slipped from my grasp.

I’m happy there were no breaking bones or immense pain like you see on TV shows. Being part wolf was nothing less than magical. The shift was a realignment of every atom of my being. It felt like briefly losing myself to combine with the world around me before solidifying into another form. It’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t taken a psychedelic before. Not that I have, but from what I’ve heard, the connection to the world seems similar. A shimmer, a vibration through my body, and then it’s over and I’m in a different form. Although, it’s different if you fight it.

I shook out my fur, the color tawny brown like my hair, and just as unruly. My hazel eyes were definitely my best feature, and despite Louie making fun of my small stature, I could kill a man with my thick thighs.

My wolf whined until I let go of my thoughts, giving in to my base nature to live in the moment.

A howl ripped through my muzzle, and I took off, tongue lolling to the side in a dopey smile. A fallen tree blocked my path, but instead of skirting around it, I bunched my haunches and leapt ten feet into the air, clearing the top by several feet with an excited yip.

Up ahead in a clearing a small herd of deer grazed leisurely.

I didn’t slow down for a second, bursting through the tree line until the glow of the moon radiated across my body. The deer’s heads shot up in alarm, and they fled from my beast.

I am a predator. Hear me roar!

Another long howl pierced the night sky as I chased after them. All in good fun, of course. There was no reason to kill a deer for a meal when I didn’t have a pack to share it with.

A pang of loss jolted through my body. Wolves weren’t meant to be alone, yet here I was. I knew it was for the best. But I missed being a part of something larger than myself, living and working together, raising pups.

Yet here I was.

Padding through the undergrowth, I enjoyed the stretch in my limbs while I listened to the night music—chirping crickets, hooting owls, and other tangible sounds that reminded me that, here in nature, I wasn’t completely alone. Hours passed before my wolf was satisfied and my human worries took over once more. The sun would rise soon, and I had another shift at the diner today. I needed to get at least a few hours of sleep.

Taking my time getting back to my clothes, I nosed along the ground, catching the scent of a rabbit that had crossed this path about four hours ago.

My right ear twitched as it caught the flutter of a bird’s wings fifty feet away.

Pack, my wolf breathed, when an earthy aroma crossed my senses.

I stilled.

With a tentative step, I lifted my head into the air and sniffed deeply.

Pack.

Two shifters had crossed here earlier, their scent oddly familiar.

My hackles raised, a small growl rumbling in my chest when it hit me. It wasn’t just any two wolves, but ones from the rival pack. The Yellowstone pack.

Shit. Did their territory extend this far south?

If they caught the scent of me, they’d still recognize me as part of my old pack, the Yosemite Pack. And if that happened . . .

I shook out the shudder running through my body. What if they already knew I was here? What if they were hunting me? Or worse, told my old pack about me?

I was dead either way.

I raced back to the rocks where my clothes were hidden.

I needed to leave now.

Stay. Fight, my wolf growled in my head.

I returned the rumble with a verbal one of my own. That need of hers, of mine, was exactly why I needed to flee.

If not for my sake, then for my mother’s. A howl emerged in the night.

I swore and ran for it.

This builds great tension—Lyra's peaceful run turning into a moment of real danger with the rival pack scent. The stakes feel personal and immediate now.