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Hunted. Abandoned. Lost.

I’d thought that, after the “disowned superfreak” thing, my life couldn’t get worse. Then I got kidnapped, and had to do a boatload of seriously sketchy stuff to keep my head above water—and still nearly drowned.

But actions have consequences.

Bewitched by my old friend anger, I’ve gotten us all bitten in the backside and the wolvesare chasing us. I’m not sure if we’re running toward help or away from danger. Both, I suppose.

All I care about right now is keeping everyone alive, and happy, and whole. With the Acceptance bearing down and the last few months coming to a head, I just hope I can keep us all from running out of time for real.