Chapter 8 The Rising Storm

• The tension between us was cut short as the rustling in the bushes grew louder. Duke's grip on my hand tightened, pulling me along as we sprinted through the forest. The howls were getting closer, more frantic.
• "Faster!" Duke urged, his voice a mix of command and desperation. "We can't let them catch up!"
• We separated from the others. I pushed myself to keep up with his pace, my heart pounding in my chest. Every shadow seemed to morph into a threat, every snap of a twig a signal of imminent danger. We had to find shelter, and fast.