Kya regretted eating breakfast as the farina sat like a lump in her belly weighing her down. She’d tried to take the most direct route, but Chloe had shoved her with her shoulder several times forcing Kya to stay along the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains. Kya didn’t know if Chloe wanted her to follow the range because it was safer for them when they were in wolf form or because Chloe knew that it was the path the men had taken. For the first time in her life Kya regretted not having the ability to communicate telepathically with other wolves. Regardless of Chloe’s reasoning, Kya knew the Rockies, which rose dramatically over Montana’s interior plains, would lead them straight to the Front Range of Colorado. The pack ran through the day covering rough terrain. They stopped infrequently, only every few hours when Chloe would break off and lead them to a watering hole. Kya knew there were roughly 966 road miles from Denver to Glacier. She’d driven that in 16 hours, her old clunker she’d bought from some sleazy car lot barely breaking 65 miles per hour.
