The Hunger (The Lycans 3)

I opened my eyes and looked around, a shiver moving over my arms as a breeze picked up. I swore I heard twigs snapping, knew I hadn’t imagined something large scurrying close by. I was sweating, strands of hair that had fallen from my ponytail sticking to my temples.

I curled my hands around the straps of my backpack. At least I was smart enough to bring it and pack some water and energy bars, because they’d saved my ass a few hours ago when I felt dehydrated and my stomach had cramped something fierce.

I blew out a breath, and the stream of air pushed away a lock of my dark hair that had come undone from my ponytail and wasn’t currently plastered to my face. I did a full turn, trying to see if I could make heads or tails of which way I should go, but my reality was looking like I’d be stuck sleeping here overnight, because no way could I navigate through the woods when it was dark.

I could cry… again. I’d broken down not that long ago when I knew I was up shit creek without a damn paddle, but I’d put on my “big-girl panties” and kept on trucking. I was a survivor, I told myself. I hadn’t made it through the foster care system with scars and bruises from standing up for myself and not letting the other kids beat me down, just to lose it in the Highlands of Scotland.

I picked a direction and started walking, because any way at this point was a good enough bet to get out of here.

“This is what I get for being an idiot and going off the trail.” I pushed that same strand of hair away from my face. “This is what I get for not bringing a compass or map, or hell, a cell phone that actually works out in the middle of nowhere.” But I’d wanted to “rough it,” to see the natural beauty of my surroundings that tourists weren’t hand-fed. I’d felt this pull to explore, and I hadn’t denied it.

And I’m paying for it now.

I pulled out my cell, but I already knew what I’d see. No service. No bars. Nothing but my battery dying a slow death. It’s the only reason I wasn't using the flashlight on the damn thing, because I kept holding out hope that one of these times I checked for service, a miracle would happen and I’d have it.

I was losing my mind. I had to be to berate myself like it would make a difference.

Another chill raced over my body, and I tightened the light jacket I wore around myself even more.

I kept walking. And walking. And walking. Time felt like it blurred in these woods, which only added to the horrifyingly creepy aspect of it. I’d have to either make a makeshift campsite—with no tent, no fire… no nothing but my light jacket and the lone water bottle and energy bar I had left—or keep trucking through these woods at night and hope I found something.

And then I heard another noise. Moaning? Growling?

I stopped, my heart suddenly in my throat as I turned around, my head whipping back and forth as I tried to figure out what that noise was and what direction it came from.

Another moan. Female.

A harsh groan. Male.

My eyes widened, and I followed the sound. I didn’t give a shit if I came across people having sex in the woods. They could get me out of here. I was all but running now, my feet crunching over twigs and dried leaves.

I was about to open my mouth and yell for help, to get their attention so they’d hopefully stop fucking before I saw them and had to bleach my eyes out, but the very animal growl that ripped through the air had me stumbling forward before falling onto my knees.

I cried out softly as my hand landed on the jagged edge of a rock. I pulled it up and brought it close enough to my face so I could see. A nasty-looking slice went through the length of my palm, deep enough I may need stitches, but that was the least of my worries.

I pushed myself up just as I heard the sound of… men speaking, their voices gruff and deep.

My pulse picked up in relief.

I found myself moving toward them before I realized what I was doing, the voices growing louder yet now becoming a little distorted. All I kept thinking was that they could get me out of here. It didn’t even occur to me—at least not more than on a superficial level—that I could be walking into something far more dangerous than being lost in the woods.

But all I kept replaying in my mind was getting out of this damn forest, going back to the little bed-and-breakfast, and putting this all behind me. I was going to stay in and sleep for the next twelve hours.