Scratch the Sky: Blood Wild Chronicles Book 1

“Run, Jia!”

The words reverberated in her head, carried by the November rain that drenched her thick dark pelt and tickled her ears, words that pushed her back into action against her better judgment. But when Roland Marrock spoke, the Pack listened, regardless of his daughter’s misgivings about the man’s safety. Her last glimpse of him, crouched over Delilah’s convulsing, bloody body, trying to drag her out of the open street into the safety of the nearest overgrown passage…the crack and snap of a taut bowstring…his yelp and a howl of warning to the now scattered Pack, an ultimatum that left Jia torn between remaining to help, to fight for his life at his side, and the obedience he demanded.

She knew what she had to do. Against her heart’s wishes, duty to the Pack came first. She had to get each of them to safety. She had to warn the others, to lead the hunters away from the den.

She had to lead where her father could not. Her hesitation on the wall, a moment too long, beneath the radiance of the full moon’s silvery fingers, lit a glow in the chartreuse of her irises, a beacon caught in the false beam of a hunter’s light. Momentarily blinded by the flare, she froze, but it was the horror of what lay behind the white glare that temporarily robbed her limbs of motion. A glimpse, a visage lost to time, followed by a snap that caught her unaware and the burning in her shoulder that threw her from the wall into the foliage on the other side.

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