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157-deadly wolves

ELENA GOTHAM

The eerie silence as we marched through the thick trees only seemed to grow the unease bouncing around my spine.

“How many more baskets until we’re ready to go back? I don't want to be here until nightfall-” I grumbled, turning to see Klein Markov slashing down more trees with the thick silver machete he held in one hand.

The dark clothes he wore matched the bulky two-piece he gave me. Leather and linen.

I snatched up a couple more handfuls of the blackberries and wild fruits that filled the knit basket, marching toward the horse and dumping the heavy basket in with the rest of the cargo.

“I can't do this anymore Markov! How on earth are we going to survive like this? Like animals?!” I screamed, allowing the frustration to finally bleed through my voice as tears rolled down my cheeks.

I swiped at it furiously, not wanting the damned rogue to see me cry before he caught one of my wrists easily.

I felt myself inhale. He was so close I could see the deep blue flecks around
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