Chapter 75: The Pack
Book Three: Hunt
The night air fills his lungs, silky and rich with aromas driving him to ecstasy. Everything is alive around him, every
sense wide open to embrace each gift. The wind rushing past the fine hairs on his arms and cheeks makes them tingle, the
scent of blood and hot flesh everywhere. The world is sharp and bright, details so crisp they take his breath away. He
tastes the coming of the morning, the subtle shift in temperature as night gives way to the earliest trace of dawn.
They are around him, his family, his true pack, as beautiful to him as his freedom. Their silver eyes meet his for winks
of time, shining chrome rims haloing gaping black, their pale skin glowing in his vision. Even their gleaming teeth,
smiling at him, fill him with a surge of joy. He raises his clawed right hand, swipes at a passing sapling, feels the
satisfying impact, the soft sigh of the falling top lost behind him as he runs on and on.