CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY EIGHT

We drive for days, leaving the misty redwoods of Santa Crus and heading into the dry, dusty deserts of Nevada. Pale scrub brush the color of my straw blonde hair stretches out in all directions, waving in the desert wind. Then we hit the cliffs and canyons of Idaho, spending one night in Twin Falls, where we fall asleep to the heavy roar of the waterfall just outside our cabin room.

I like riding with Jasper - even Regan herself couldn’t have put together such a perfect opportunity for us to hang out and talk. I tell him about Layla, and some of the funnier predicaments we found ourselves in. He opens up a bit and tells me about a few of his adventures from his mercenary days. It’s obvious that there’s still a lot he’s holding back, but the more time we spend together, the more his walls come down.

We pass through Yellowstone, where herds of elk tempt our inner wolves’ hunting instincts. Jasper mentions that his family used to vacation in the area, and suggests that we get out a