I’d evaded the hunters hiding in the forest by cutting my hand and putting my blood on tree stumps and plants.

Their senses were better equipped than those of an average person.

I snapped branches and twigs to leave a trail, then backtracked and went in the opposite direction.

All the while, I prayed I could move fast enough to keep them guessing since their speed had been altered to match mine.

I still felt so guilty for the trauma I’d caused that guy, all because he’d done a good deed.

I sent money anonymously to his home address when I was able, having seen the information on his registration.

The incident had taught me a couple of valuable lessons.

One, never underestimate the hunters and how far they were willing to go just for moi , and two, I was on my own.

I could never put an innocent in danger like that ever again—not from the hunters or my monster.

I shook myself out of the bad memories and welcomed this new memory I was creating.

It would have to sustain me for a while.

Before long, the squeaky-clean Welcome to Blackwood Creek sign came into sight. We’d been driving for at least two hours, but the time had flown by, and part of me was sorry it had to end so soon. My time as a normal person riding in a car was a luxury I wouldn’t soon forget.

Slowly, we drove through the charming, quaint town.

Some of the shops had white window boxes packed with colorful flowers of all varieties.

Others had the kind of striped awnings I’d only seen in old movies.

Trees rich with colorful blossoms lined the ample, old-fashioned brick sidewalks.

There weren’t many cars on the street. Houses of varying sizes stacked close to one another were built off the main road—the downtown living of Blackwood Creek.

Everything seemed within walking distance of the main thoroughfare.

People were walking and riding bicycles all over.

A beautiful stone fountain stood in the center of town, with a small gazebo on the manicured lawn.

People soaked up the sun on park benches and tossed Frisbees while others lay on the grass.

Dogs roamed unleashed around the unfenced park.

The place was a real-life Mayberry from The Andy Griffith Show .

It was surreal. I was gobsmacked by the perfect, pretty picture it painted.

Fiona glanced back at me with a smile. “I told you it was charming.”

I couldn’t speak, so I said nothing. Places as perfect as this stunned me, leaving me temporarily speechless. Given my present circumstances, it was safer for me to stay quiet, anyway.

They didn’t stop gushing about the town and its community as we drove.

Fiona pointed out a small boutique that sold cute clothes at affordable prices, and James nodded at the mechanic’s shop, where they always did a quality job at fair prices.

The grocer, Fiona said, sold fresh and delicious produce, and the bookstore sold both new and used volumes.

The antique shop had a wealth of trinkets and treasures.

The town should hire them for PR. If they pitched this town on the news, tourism would quadruple in a week.

James pulled into a parking lot off the town square and pointed in the direction of the bed and breakfast, as well as the tavern Fiona had mentioned.

When the car stopped, I could finally form words. “Thank you so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

I pulled some money from my pocket and leaned forward to hand it to Fiona. Having spent time with the family and seeing what they had, I put two-and-two together—they weren’t well-off. The least I could do was give them some gas money for the ride and the slice of normalcy they’d shared with me.

With the money I had left at the station to cover the damaged camera, my cash supply was dwindling fast. Because I didn’t spend a lot of time in one place, I couldn’t very well expect high-paying jobs.

I had set myself up doing freelance graphic design, but my last gig had been more than a month ago.

After I counted up the small amount of money I had left, I calculated that I had enough left for one night in a cheap motel.

I would need to find a job ASAP. I’d probably have to stay out in the woods for a few nights until I could get some cash, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t done that before.

I tried to hide my relief when they waved off my attempt to give them money.

“Keep that,” James said. “We were coming home this way, anyway. We didn’t go out of our way.”

Fiona added, “If you’re staying in town, I recommend you stay at the Bogford Bed fresh blood dripped down my wrists.

Stay put, Wolf. You’re not going to destroy this town! I screamed in my head.

Short, panting breaths puffed from my lungs as I pushed my wolf down to where I could lock her away and keep her hidden.

My body tensed as I held each joint, muscle, and bone in a hard vise of determination that had me shaking from the intensity of my hold and the struggle for dominance raging inside me.

My panic increased as I watched the children playing and eating their ice cream, as mothers and daughters held hands while shopping. I couldn’t lose this battle and let my wolf hurt someone, some innocent who didn’t know the dark depths of the world.

Scanning the buildings, I launched myself through the closest door, which happened to be The Tipsy Tavern that Fiona had recommended. I hoped the smell of alcohol might overcome the scents that had triggered this latest inner fight.

The tavern had an old-timey essence—a dark wood bar, a scarred wood floor with deep cherry paneling. Everything was on the darker side of the spectrum, but there was nothing terrible, sinister, or dive-like.

I slid into a booth in the far corner, hunched over, and breathed in deep and slow, concentrating on every long inhale and every slow exhale in the hopes I could squash the intensity under all the air.

I shuddered at the immense amount of control I had to exert.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, then ran from my temple to my jaw, leaving damp tracks on my cheeks.

I shut my eyes to keep the tears at bay.