His Luna's Forgotten Scars novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Under the Cedar

I tore off my clothes at the creek's edge and shifted, and my paws hit the mud.

My wolf was russet-brown and quick, and I had never run on four legs so hard.

Ewan came beside me, black and heavy, with the rain running off his back.

The Ironwood guards had gone east.

I turned north, toward the ridge.

I didn't know why.

I only knew that a six-year-old who wanted his mother would go to the place where the creek came out of the hills, because that was where I had taken him to gather mint every spring.

I knew that, and I didn't know how I knew.

The rain came in sheets.

Lightning cracked over the pines, and the ridge ran with water.

I could smell nothing but wet bark and my own panic.

Then Ewan stopped dead and lifted his nose.

He turned his head, and gave one short bark.

I followed him through a thicket of ferns, and under a huge old cedar whose roots had hollowed a cave in the bank.

There was a small shape curled in the hollow, with a coat over its head.

I shifted back without thinking.

The cold hit my bare skin.

"Jory," I said. "Jory, it's me."

The shape didn't move.

I dropped to my knees in the mud and pulled the coat away.

He was soaked to the bone, with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips blue.

His eyes were open, glassy, and fixed on my face.

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