Chapter 14: Silver

The rogues had broken through the north gate by the time our trucks hit the tree line.

Grimjaw's courtyard was full of smoke and screaming.

Twenty rogues ran loose between the torches, big scarred wolves with no pack scent on them.

My pack's wolves were fighting in clumps with no one to give them orders.

Two had already gone down by the well.

I jumped out of the truck before it stopped.

Jonah landed next to me, and his Beta and eleven Venomfang wolves poured out behind him.

"Ivy," he said. "You haven't shifted in ten months. Stay behind the line."

"No."

"If your wolf doesn't come, you'll die in there."

"She'll come."

I said it, and I believed it, and I ran for the gate.

A rogue the size of a pony came out of the smoke at me.

I had never fought a rogue in human form, and I knew I could not win this way.

My wolf rose up under my ribs, wide awake.

"Now," I told her.

My bones broke and reformed.

It hurt like nothing I had felt since the bond tore, and it was the best pain of my life.

I hit the dirt on four paws, and the world came up sharp and loud.

Every scent in the courtyard was suddenly mine.

Blood, ash, wet fur, and Jonah's woodsmoke a few yards off.

The rogue skidded to a stop and stared at me.

I was silver.

My fur was pale grey-white from nose to tail, and the torches lit it bright.

The rogue's ears flattened, and I went for his throat.

He was fast and strong and mean, and he was nothing.

I knocked him onto his side, and my jaws closed on his foreleg and snapped it.

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