(LIAM'S POV)
The forest felt wrong.
Sunlight streamed through the thick canopy overhead, spilling across the ground in scattered patches of gold, but it did nothing to ease the knot of fear tightening in my chest. The woods seemed too quiet one moment and too loud the next. Every creak of a branch, every rustle of leaves, every distant snap hidden somewhere beyond the trees made me flinch.
How the hell did I get here?
One second I'd been in the bedroom. Angry. Terrified. Yelling.
Then... nothing.
My stomach twisted.
Did they drug me again?
The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine. It was the only explanation that made sense. Except it didn't. Because if I followed that line of thinking, I'd eventually have to consider the impossible parts too. The stories they'd told me. Magic. Werewolves. Heat cycles. Spells.
No.
I refused to go there.
"Roland!" I shouted.
My voice bounced through the trees before fading away.
"Dylan!"
