Page 36 of In Violent Waves

“Wilder doesn’t like to know.”

Lyra frowned at him. “Why?”

Wilder huffed. “Can we not do this now?”

“Ten seconds,” Otto added.

Wilder looked Lyra steadily in her eyes. Her throat bobbed as she forced a swallow.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond, but grabbed her under her arms and hauled her body to him.

“Close your eyes,” he said against the side of her head.

He didn’t even spare a second to see if she complied before he hurtled them out of the two-story window.

Lyra let out a mewling scream. He landed on his feet, Lyra’s body clutched firmly to his chest. She stared up at him with wonder for a split second before it turned to rage, and she pounded against his chest.

“How dare you?” she seethed as Maelys, Otto, and Ridge hit the ground running right beside them.

“We don’t have the time.” He threw her over his shoulder and sprinted into the night.

Howls reached their ears, and Wilder’s feet pounded harder against the ground.

He could outrun them on his own, even with their elongated limbs and advanced muscle tone. But it wouldn’t be possible with Lyra thrown over his shoulder.

Wilder saw the crimson eyes shining in the darkness as the wulver launched itself at them.

Mangy black fur helped camouflage the creature, but its eyes—they always gave it away. Its claws were outstretched, and Wilder could feel the ghost of that pain lashing down his spine.

Otto and Ridge streaked ahead, followed by Maelys.

Ridge stopped and whirled, firing two arrows.

Wilder felt them whiz by and then heard the crunch as they embedded into massive skulls.

There was a booming crash as the bodies slammed to the ground. He hadn’t realized there were two on his tail.

And the odor, he would never for as long as he lived, which would be a very long time, forget that smell.

These wulvers belonged to Igneous’ Clan.

And they were afterher.

He had suffered at their hands, and no matter how much he despised Lyra, he wouldn’t wish that pain on even her.

They continued running through the forest, a blur among the still trees.

But the wulvers did not pursue them.

As the moon dropped lower in the sky, so did their pace before Wilder halted them.

Lyra slid off his shoulder and collapsed in a heap on the forest floor. Her hair was tangled, and her eyes were wild, but she did not seem frightened.

Quite the contrary, she was livid.

Wilder bent over at the waist, sucking down air to cool his burning throat and fatigued muscles.