Dark Lies (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 3)
Dark Lies: Chapter 23

Savannah

We sprinted forward, and the whole pack was suddenly in motion, a rolling wave of fur and teeth and claws.

Our feet pounded against the grass as my wolf wove back and forth, struggling to keep us from being trampled.

This wasn’t a track meet. It was a stampede. Wolves were everywhere, jostling and colliding into each other.

Sam was at my side, snarling when other wolves got too close. Follow me!

Heart racing, I clung to her heels and let her run interference. This is insane!

A wolf I didn’t recognize whipped around my side and careened in front of us. Wolfie growled and nipped at him.

Sam gave me a wink that said, Now you’re getting the hang of it.

The hell I was.

Rather than fight the flow, I let my wolf take full control as the hairy maniacs of the Dockside pack bounded and sprang around us. This is not what I had in mind!

Sam ran confidently by my side, and the primal sense of her thoughts flooded my mind. Don’t worry. The hierarchy will sort itself out.

Clearly, everyone just wanted to be in the lead, by Jaxson. He was already far ahead.

Wolfie gave a growl of frustration. There’s no way we’re going to bring up the rear.

We began to pick up speed, which brought us back into the chaos that boiled in Jaxson’s wake. We dodged and wove, trying to gain ground, until my wolf finally gave up and eased off the gas. We’re going to break an ankle dodging these idiots.

Frustration tore at us both. This was a terrible way to run a race.

This is a 5K. We need to pace ourselves, I said to my wolf, and concentrated on my memories of running cross country. Sprinting at the beginning was a great way to lose. We needed to find a pace we could sustain. We didn’t know the course, so it was best to meter others.

This pace feels pretty good, but it’s all teeth and tails ahead, my wolf responded.

The pack had started to split into clusters, and she decided to hang with half a dozen wolves that were drafting just behind the lead group.

After a few minutes, the chaos settled down, and we left the wooded park and pack land behind. Wolves all around me howled as we crossed Razorback Avenue.

We joined in the howls as our claws skittered across the road and we leapt back onto the soft grass of the Midway Green, where the Full Moon Fair had been held a few weeks ago. It was just open grass now.

The pack had settled into a steady pace, though we were breathing hard.

Sam glanced over at me with her tongue hanging out and a very human expression that seemed to say, Are you okay?

My wolf gave a determined snarl back. Fine.

She nipped at me in warning. Don’t overdo it.

My wolf just gritted her teeth and put her head down. I could feel her determination matching my own.

Running with the pack was like nothing I’d ever experienced. As we settled into a rhythm, we became one with the wolves around us. Our stride, our breathing, was like the low thrum of a hypnotic dance.

Soon, we left the Midway behind and turned to run south through Exposition Park, which was lit by antique-looking streetlamps. We tore around strolling pedestrians and late-evening bikers with reckless abandon. A few people shouted and cursed, and some even threw beverages or ignited warning spells over our heads. But overall, the Magic Siders were remarkably unfazed. Apparently, a pack of rabid-looking wolves running through the city wasn’t all that uncommon. Anywhere else, the hapless citizens would be screaming at the top of their lungs, running for their lives. But this was Magic Side. People here had seen a lot.

We raced down the shoreline, with the lights of South Side Chicago twinkling back at us across the waters of Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, a deep throb of exhaustion began creeping into our muscles, and we began to lose ground.

My wolf gave a frustrated growl as Jaxson slipped further ahead. Sam stayed with us, though I knew she wasn’t equally winded, which sent irritation bubbling beneath my skin.

Wolfie stumbled a little but pushed on. I could use a little help, here.

How? I asked.

I’m not exactly sure how it works. But I helped you free your ankle in the forest of shadows and gave you strength to break out of the van.

Could I do the same for her now? I focused my mind and will on running.

We tripped and slammed snout-down in the grass.

Sam skidded to a halt and turned back as wolves zipped by. She gave a soft whine that said, You need to take it easy.

No! We scrambled to our feet and tried to catch up. We were hopelessly behind the second cluster by now.

My wolf got back into rhythm and focused on her stride. That didn’t work. Maybe I should just drive.

A melancholic sense of failure seeped into my heart. Fine. Helping her run didn’t work. I gave a defeated sigh and just focused on remembering my races in high school—what it had felt like to run, to have strength in my limbs. The runner’s high. The soothing rhythm of the road.

I’d been a star once. I would’ve won a scholarship if I hadn’t gotten hurt in my senior year, and I would’ve gotten the hell out of Belmont and Wisconsin a long time before this.

As memories of those meets whirled in my mind, we began to pick up speed.

Keep doing whatever you’re doing, Wolfie said.

Holy shit, we were running fast.

A surge of elation coursed through my veins. We could do this. I thought of the thunder of my sneakers on the trail and track, the thrill of passing rivals, the wind in my face.

The sweet taste of victory at hand.

We broke out of the second cluster and began to gain on the lead pack. We started passing more and more stragglers, and then suddenly, Sam and I were on the heels of the leaders. She was breathing hard and gave me a surprised look: Where the hell did this come from?

I grinned at her. Second wind.

Then I felt it. The drug. Not just a runner’s high, but the intoxicating knowledge that we could win. That our rivals were all tired, and that somehow, we’d found a new store of strength.

My wolf and I had never been so in tune, so connected.

We surged forward around the edge of the pack, leaving Sam behind. Leaving them all behind. I’d come to run with Jaxson, and that was what I was going to do.

We focused on him, the massive wolf at the head of the pack. He was a comet, and the rest of the us were a silver tail strung out behind him.

That asshole. He’d invited us to run, then left us behind.

I focused my frustration on him and felt it entwine with that of my wolf. He’d let us run with the stragglers, eating his dust like we were just another wolf. But we weren’t. We were his mate, weren’t we? He sure didn’t act like it.

It should have been him guiding me through the crowd. It should have been him running at my side, not Sam.

My wolf dug her claws in with every step. Ran like she hated the earth and all it stood for. I focused my mind on all the memories I had of ever taking the lead. Watching runners fall away until there was only one left.

We slammed into a burly wolf and ricocheted off another until we finally broke free of the cluster. And suddenly, there were just two of us. Jaxson and me.

He looked over, and I let the resentment burn in my eyes. You left me!

A wry grin spread across his face, and his own yellow eyes glowed with…pride? I knew you would catch up. My mate is strong. Agile. Fast.

We almost stumbled as a burst of delight threatened to spoil our hard-earned frustration. His approval was like smoky whiskey that tasted divine and spread warmth through your chest.

I wasn’t going to let the beast sucker me with a smile. But his intoxicating scent wrapped around me, and it was all I could do to think. The musk of exertion and the rich notes of forests and moss—it was desire and freedom and limitlessness, all wrapped into one.

I could run forever.

He was so much larger than me—I had to take two strides for every one of his—but somehow, our pace became one as the lights across the lake flashed by.

This is what he’d wanted. To run side by side. Just the two of us. Free.

Jaxson nodded to the far promontory ahead. Almost there.

The point. The finish line.

Desire sparked in my mind. I realized I could win, no matter how big he was, no matter how fast. I was strong.

I gloried in the knowledge.

Memories of old races and past victories flooded into my mind. The final sprint. The burning in my muscles. The intoxicating call of the finish line. The tape breaking on my chest.

Once, a decade ago, those moments of victory had been everything to me in a bleak and lonely world.

My wolf and I surged with a strength and speed neither of us knew we had. We left Jaxson behind, Sam behind, the entire pack behind and shot forward. A cocktail of elation and triumph poured into our veins as the dark trees flew by and the grass tore beneath our paws.

The shoreline, with its limestone seawall, loomed ahead. Beyond it was only the dark water of Lake Michigan and the distant lights of Chicago. This was it.

We run out to the point. First one to jump in the lake wins.

I would win.

I would show Jaxson I was stronger, faster, and more worthy than any wolf in his pack. Now that we knew where we were going, we couldn’t be stopped.

With a final burst of speed, we bounded over the terraced limestone seawall and leapt out high over the water.

We did it! I thought with joy as the waves sparkled below.

And then…I began to shift.

What are you doing? I screamed at my wolf.

I hate the water. Good luck!

Aw, hell.

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