Fantine

The damp pine needles squished beneath my boots as I followed Riley down the narrow dirt path leading away from the chaotic lights of the grand hall, and the cool night air felt sharp against my face while the distant sound of the pack’s truck engines grew fainter behind the thick treeline. Riley was holding my uninjured hand with a tight grip, his palm warm and sweaty as his wolf pushed against his skin, and ahead of us in the small clearing stood the ancient stone altar where three spiritual elders dressed in dark wool coats were already waiting beside a roaring central flame.

"You don't have to step...