Then she heard Wolf, chasing her.
She shoved through the exit. The cool evening air engulfed her as she pounded down the stairs to the empty street, already scanning the open square for help.
She saw no one.
No one.
The door slammed open behind her before it had time to close and she stumbled blindly across the street. In the distance, she saw a woman running into a nearby alley. Hope flashed and Scarlet urged her feet to move faster, to fly. She suddenly felt like she could take off and soar over the concrete. If she could just reach the woman, just use her port to call for help—
And then another figure appeared. Another man, his gait abnormally fast. He sped into the alley and a moment later the woman’s terrified scream screeched across the square, and was cut short.
A howl erupted from the same dark alley.
In the distance, another howl rose up to greet it, and another, and another, filling the twilight with bloodthirsty cries.
Terror and hopelessness choked Scarlet all at once and she fell, silt and concrete digging into her palms. Gasping, drenched with sweat, she rolled onto her back. Wolf had stopped running, but he still came for her. Prowling toward her with measured, patient steps.
He was panting almost as hard as she was.
Somewhere off in the city, another chorus of howling started.
Wolf did not join them.
His attention was all for Scarlet, cold and sharp and hungry. The pain was clear. The fury was clearer.
She scrambled away on her burning palms.
Wolf paused as he reached the center of the intersection. He was silhouetted by the moonlight, eyes gold and green and black and seething.
She saw him drag his tongue across his fangs. Watched as he curled and uncurled his fingers. His jaw worked as if to take in a bigger gulp of air.
She could see his fight. His struggle. As clearly as she could see the animal—the wolf—in him. As clearly as she could still see the man.
“Wolf.” Her tongue was parched. She tried to wet her dry lips and tasted blood. “What have they done to you?”
“You.” The word was spat out at her, full of hatred. “What have you done to me?”
He took another stumbling step toward her and she scooted away, pushing at the ground with the heels of her shoes, but it was useless. In the blink of an eye he had crouched down over her, knocking her onto her elbows without even having to touch her. His hands hit the ground on either side of her head.
Scarlet gaped up at eyes that now seemed to glow in the dark. His mouth was ruby red, the front of his shirt black from the gore. She could smell blood on him, on his clothes, his hair, his skin.
If it was this pungent to her, she couldn’t imagine how it must overwhelm him.
He growled and lowered his nose to her neck.
Sniffing.
“I know you don’t want to hurt me, Wolf.”
His nose bumped against her jaw. His breath caressed her collarbone.
“You helped me. You rescued me.”
A steaming tear escaped down her cheek.
The tips of his hair, wild and messy again, brushed against her lips. “Things have changed.”
Her heart fluttered like a firefly with a missing wing. Her pulse pounded through her veins, expecting the clamp of jaws on her throat at any moment. But something was holding him back. He could have killed her already, but he hadn’t.