Chapter 11: The Moon Wakes Her Wolf

The hum rose until I felt it in my teeth.

Silver light poured up out of the slab and wound around my wrist.

The old pale crescent of Beau's half bite split open and burned away.

It did not bleed.

It simply went out, and what was left was smooth skin.

I screamed.

Something enormous woke in my chest and stretched, and my bones lit up one by one.

"Sabine!" Eli had my shoulders. "Sabine, look at me."

I looked.

His face was a hand's width from mine, and I could see every one of his eyelashes.

I could see the dark rim around his pupils and the fine scar at the corner of his mouth.

I could smell the bog, the stone, the cold, the heat of his skin.

My ears were full of the sound of a thousand small lives in the reeds.

"My wolf," I said.

"I know," he said, and his voice shook. "I can feel her."

She came up through me, long and pale and wild, and I did not shift.

I only stood there on the black stone with her looking out through my eyes.

Silver light ran down my arms.

The seven stones bowed their light toward me, one after another, and went still.

Then every sound in the world went quiet, and the pack link opened.

I did not need Beau's hand to hear it.

It was a roar, a river of voices, forty minds at once, and they were all afraid.

[Something woke,] said Gray. [Something at Weeping Ridge. The whole ground moved.]

[It's the bog,] said a voice that I knew was Emmett's. [It's methane, it's nothing.]

[It's the Moon,] my father said, and I had never heard him afraid. [Opal. It's the Moon.]

I put both hands over my ears, and it did not help.

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