She surged forward, bones twisting, fur ripping through skin, ears flattening against her skull.

Her wolf was free.

No, no, no, stay awake, stay awake—

The heavy weight of the soaked clothes and sneakers Trash had worn tangled around her limbs, dragging them down. The river raged around her like a beast.

She clawed at the fabric, biting and twisting, trying to pull herself out. A shoe slipped off, then a sleeve tore, and finally, the sodden weight let her go.

But the bag.

The bag!

She caught sight of it tumbling deeper into the dark. She dived with a powerful kick, sharp pain lancing through her shoulder from the bite that should have healed but hadn’t because nothing healed right anymore.

She found the strap, teeth clamping down, and kicked upwards with everything she had.

The surface exploded around her.

She broke through, gasping, dragging the bag with her, eyes searching. On one side…too close pack scent is too strong.

She could smell them, thick and bitter and male behind her. They would follow. They would never stop.

She turned in the current and paddled furiously, favouring her injured leg.

Go. Go now before it’s too late…

Each stroke burned. Her right front leg throbbed, still bleeding. Her back paw sliced open on a jagged stone beneath the surface. She yelped through clenched jaws, pain blinding, but she didn’t let go of the bag.

She kept pushing.

Kept swimming.

Until finally, finally her paw touched the opposite bank. And she crawled, shaking, up onto solid ground.

The forest on this side was dense. The scent markers were older, fainter. Unclaimed.

Safe. For now.

She collapsed onto the dirt, mud clinging to her wet fur, blood mixing with river water.

She tried to stay awake. For Trash.

They won’t stop looking. Luther won’t stop. Merek either. We have to keep moving… or it was all for nothing.

Her vision blurred. Her leg throbbed. Her chest heaved.

But they were out.

Free.

And even if it killed them, they were going to stay that way.