Chapter one hundred and two

Zoe's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of fear. She felt the tremors in the floor, the walls vibrating with the growing intensity of the mob's anger. They were coming, she knew, their rage fueled by the whispers, the rumors, the simmering resentment she had been trying so desperately to ignore.

She scrambled out of bed, her mind racing, her body trembling. The chants were growing closer, their words a death knell echoing through the night. She had to escape.

Panic surged through her, a cold, suffocating grip that threatened to paralyze her. She grabbed her cloak, her trembling hands fumbling with the fastenings. She had to get out, and fast, before they reached her.

She ran, her heart pounding in her ears, the echoes of the chants a haunting melody. The pack house was a labyrinth, its corridors dark and unfamiliar in the dim light of the moon. She knew she couldn't outrun them, even if she could find her way through her fear-fogged mind.

She burst through a back doo