[BOOK ONE] When hunter-gatherer Adele Shepherd comes across an injured werewolf in the woods, it's up to her to take him in and save his life: in a remote town dedicated to killing the creatures, she's the only one left who wants to help no matter t...
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SUNLIGHT SWEPT OVER the snow, seeping through the gaps in the firs that couldn't block it out, a trickle of honey that bathed the trees in its yellow glow. The stark, sparkling ice made the soft light shine brighter, bouncing off the drifts that settled over the forest floor in waves, darkening bark as the chill climbed up the trunks inch by inch. The air was still and clear, a moment of silent appreciation for the crisp November morning and the rare winter sun.
It was hard to hold onto anger on such a beautiful day, the peace stretching out its hand to Adele as it roused her with a caress of her cheek. Her limbs were leaden, aching arms weighing her down when she rolled over and sighed into her pillow. Her body cried out for mercy, her muscles still screaming each time she moved.
When she had stormed into the woods to let off steam, she hadn't come back until she had brought a tree crashing down to the ground: she had thrown her fury into her axe, thrusting her rage into the wood that she had hauled back to the cabin, hacking it up while Caleb had watched. When she had slung her shotgun over her shoulder, he had stood by her side as she waited patiently for the perfect angle, downing the buck with a single shot.
It was a hefty buck, easily two hundred pounds. She had unwound rope to drag it back to the cabin but Caleb had stopped her, hauling the deer onto his shoulders as though it weighed nothing. He hadn't said a single word the whole time they were out, his lips sealed as he had carried the buck back to the garage and heaved it onto the table. He had copied when Adele had shown him how to gut it, how to string it up on the pulley to be skinned, pushing her aching bones as far as she could.
Now she was paying for it.
Even pulling on a jumper was agony, almost not worth the pain just to avoid the cold, but she powered on through when she switched off the heater and the chill struck her in an instant. She needed to soak her muscles, to dunk herself in a hot bath and just relax, but she couldn't remember the last time she had done that. The poky bathroom had just enough space for a shower: more than a decade had passed since she had stayed in a hotel with her grandmother, the only time she had enjoyed the luxury of a bathtub.
