Wolves move fast, covering in a few hours what would take horses days.
One wolf was about to blow her biggest secret wide open in front of six soldiers before noon. What a way to come out.
It was the last thing Guinevere promised her mother before she died. But if her mother were here, she would tell her to shift. Lunaris needed their princess to step up and she was going to.
Six wolves watched.
Her heart was pounding.
This was more stressful than killing demons. The psychology was fucked.
You take too long.
Her wolf was unimpressed and ripped out of Guinevere in a flash of white light. It hurt like a motherfucker. More than it had yesterday when she shifted. To be expected. Lashes, bruises, and a battle will do that to you.
The flash faded. Six jaws would have hit the floor if jaws worked that way in wolf form. Instead, six tails went dead still.
White fur. Molten eyes. Glowing. Surprise, motherfuckers.
She moved up behind Gavyn and the formation snapped around her like a rubber band. He gave them exactly zero seconds to be emotional about her wolf, which she was grateful for.
Point. Pace. Go.
Seven wolves moved as one unit through the forest. Pure joy and pride flowed from her wolf into her, as if it had been waiting five years for this exact moment, to run with her pack, and her chest opened up in a way it never had before.
The formation moved quicker each minute and she was pretty sure they were seeing how fast she could run before going full speed. Smart. After ten minutes of running, Gavyn’s pace turned brutal, the kind of tempo that separated warriors from regular wolves.
She could have gone faster.
Her wolf knew it. Every instinct she had was screaming to open up and fly, but Gavyn was leading and she was learning.
She copied his rhythm, matching his stride length and how he navigated terrain. She memorized the way he shifted weight before a turn, the way he dropped pace before a hill and surged after a crest. She studied it the way she studied books.
✦✦✦
MILE ONE HUNDRED
Running did something to the brain. The body took over and the mind went wandering whether you wanted it to or not.
Kael.
He was unconscious in her bed with six guards and a healer. He would wake up and he would be fine and she would come back and he would be there and everything would make sense.
She hoped he was her husband.
The thought arrived fully formed, the same way it had when she first saw the mark. She hoped Cassian was right about the sale and was just an idiot about who Kael was. She hoped this man was the dragon her father had chosen and they were mated and marked and every confusing, electric, inexplicable thing that had happened between them had a clean, logical explanation.
Because the alternative was uglier.
The alternative meant she ran away and destroyed an alliance her kingdom needed. That her father was missing because of her. That every lash across her back was a consequence she’d earned and couldn’t remember earning.
She didn’t feel like a runner. But memory was the only evidence that counted and hers was a crime scene with chalk outlines and no bodies.
First thing when she returned, she would get to the bottom of everything.
Her wolf rumbled.
Let me take over. You rest.
✦✦✦
HOUR FIVE - REST POINT
They stopped for water and a twenty-minute rest.
Three wolves collapsed onto the riverbank when they shifted back. One put his face directly in the water and stayed there long enough that Guinevere briefly considered checking on him.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King