Page 112 of Chasing Freedom

Behind me, boots pound. Someone swears. Someone else shouts her name. And Lucy’s barking again as she runs further away.

I don’t stop moving until I hit the edge of the pasture and see nothing but a trail of footprints and an empty stretch of snow where she should be.

The scream is gone.

The lights are gone.

There’s nothing left but silence and falling snow.

I will myself to turn back to the others. My brothers. My best friends.

Lincoln’s face is ashen. Beau looks like he might be sick. Jasper’s hands are already shaking, jaw clenched so hard it looks like it might break.

“They took her,” I say. My voice not sounding like my own.

“Who? Who took her?” Jasper seethes.

“Miles Keller,” I answer, and each of their eyes blow wide.

My gaze flicks from them to the barn, to the dark tree line, and back again. The pain on their faces tells me everything—shock, fear, fury, the same hollow ache ripping through my chest,mirrored four times over. There’s no discussion. No hesitation. Because there’s only one choice.

We go after her.

Always.

“Horses. Now.”