I studied them for a moment and looked at the trail of deep red against the white. A short distance away, the wolf lay with a gaping neck wound. Could I have really done this? I had seen the animal the day before from my window, and again this morning, almost beckoning me into the forest. This was the same beast that was unafraid of me. * Earlier The light was only just up. The weather changed the landscape so that each morning I had a different view of snow on trees. Only I, and my kind, would notice the subtlest of changes. That morning I felt a rush of energy. The pain still sat low in my gut but I was numbing to it. I turned the door handle and was surprised to find the door unlocked. Did they now trust me or was this some kind of trap, I wondered. I no longer trusted anyone, not even Zola. Although there was sympathy in her face, there was also resolution that I must change. I had made it out the front door and strode into the barren world. The wolf was not in sight but I could sense him.
What do You think about Marek (Buried Lore Book 1)?
