As if spit out from a huge mouth with sharp teeth, I fell out of the chair onto the floor, feeling every bit as chewed up as that piece of raw cow meat. I was having trouble breathing, and my heartbeat was soaring. The tiles under my hands were cold, much colder than the ground under my wolf's paws had been. It was hard to come to terms with the lack of sunlight and the heavy smell of plastic and concrete in Finn's office.
Calling for help was not an option, so I lay there on the floor and focused on breathing.
Who were those people? Where was my wolf's brother? Who had screamed, and why? What had happened next?
Rowan. My wolf's name was Rowan. That's what that woman had called her.
"Rowan," I whispered before I could help it, and something stirred deep inside me.
