JC POV
I ran through the forest, Haylie's lifeless body cradled tightly in my arms. The wind whipped past me, but I didn't stop—not for a second. My legs burned, and my chest heaved with effort, but none of it mattered. I needed to get to the mountains.
Her body was still warm, the faint scent of her lingering beneath the harsh tang of death. It gave me hope—she hadn't been gone long. There was still time.
Klinton could help. His father and their bloodline held ancient powers, a connection to both the wolves and the spirit world. I had seen it before—him calling back a wolf's spirit and reuniting it with its body. It was rare, almost impossible, but not unheard of. If anyone could bring her back, it was him.
I refused to let her go.
I looked down at Haylie's pale face, her once radiant features now shadowed with the emptiness of death. My grip on her tightened, determination flooding every fiber of my being.
