21. Fenrir
TWENTY-ONE
FENRIR
I climbed the mossy embankment. Every step forward was a thump in my chest. Not much further.
I stopped in place, turning my head in the direction I left my female. Anger and obsession battled. Just as it had reared its head when I first attempted to leave.
Return.
Conflicting desires thrummed through my veins. Cresting over the hill, I slowed again.
I chuffed out a loud breath. The heavy scent of flesh burning singed my senses. A sneeze crawled free. Loud and echoing. Charred remains littered the ground.
I slowed, lifting my muzzle into the air. Inhaling, I took in the vast array of scents narrowed in the direction I headed. Something had happened, yet I kept stopping instead of charging toward the scents and sounds of destruction ahead. I flicked my ears back.
None would find my human where I left her. I was sure of it—but if they did? I sniffed again. That was the scent of others of my species?—
I sank my claws in and out of the soil. I snarled and lunged in the direction I left Mia.
What lay ahead did not matter. I would not risk my mate.