Relief made me giddy. “Give me directions to Graeson’s tree house.”

Another stack of pictures cascaded through my mind, and I overlaid those where this path crossed that one.

“Get up.” I hauled Imogen to her feet. She wobbled and leaned against me. “Come on. We have to get moving.”

Hooking her arm around my shoulders, I tightened my grip around her back and hauled her down the trail ghosting my vision. Warg strength suffused my limbs, not enough to pick her up and carry her, but enough I managed to half-drag, half-hobble with her to the platform where Graeson had bared his soul to me.

At the base of the tree, I gripped the first wooden slat and groaned. “This is impossible.” Imogen was healing, but she needed to keep pressure on the wound. She couldn’t do that and climb, and neither could I. “Take off your shirt.”

Too weak to comply, she turned wide eyes on me. I sighed and cut through the fabric with a claw. Once off her body, I tore the shirt into one long strip, knocked her hand aside and bound her throat. She cried out in pain, and the noise tapered into a growl. A deep, rumbling sound that didn’t vibrate her throat.

Because it came from behind us.

I glanced over my shoulder, and my knees turned to water. The silver wolf taking his time approaching us was covered in blood. His muzzle dripped with it and his paws were splashed with it, the kill was so recent.

Please let that be from a bunny.

“Climb.” I knotted the shirt around Imogen’s throat and shoved her behind me. “Get as high as you can.”

“What about you?” She didn’t wait for my answer.

“I’m just waiting on you,” I snapped. “Move.”

Trembling as she climbed, Imogen wasn’t going fast enough. She was tipsy from the blood loss, and fear clouded her like rank perfume. I breathed it in over my tongue and wanted to spit out the taste. Graeson, though, smelled of the woods, of coppery wildness that made my stomach taut with hunger for a taste of the freedom he experienced on four legs.

He lifted his head and sucked in air until his sides rounded.

“Camille.” Imogen grunted. “Hurry.”

I risked a glance behind me and spotted Imogen high enough I could start climbing. Pulse thrumming in my ears, I waited seconds longer. I needed more room, or all the wolf had to do was jump up and latch on to my leg to haul me down to the ground under him.

Movement from the wolf snagged my attention. He sauntered closer, head cocked at an angle as he watched Imogen climb as though confused about why prey would do such a thing. I checked Imogen’s progress and all but crossed my fingers the wargish limbs would help me scuttle up to the platform.