Chapter 73 Echoes Of The Past B

• Panic speared the walls of my throat and clogged my windpipe. I recognized this wolf. It was huge—nearly the size of a horse and covered in thick midnight black hair. It was Grayson’s wolf.
• I should have found comfort in that fact. Even when Grayson was horrible to me, his wolf was not. His wolf had always wanted me, always cared for me.
• However, if his dark-red eyes and prowling, evil mannerisms were any indicators, this was not the wolf I remembered.