Ridge

I’ve never been more happy to see another pack’s territory than I am when we race into the East Pack village.

I lost feeling in my legs ages ago. I’m running on fucking autopilot, putting one paw in front of the other because I have no other choice. If I feel this exhausted, this much like a worn out piece of shit, I can’t even imagine how Sable feels. She had no time to get used to her wolf form before we ended up racing all over the fucking state of Montana.

But she hasn’t said a thing. Wolves are built for running, and shifters can go harder and...