"My dad sold me to a pack of werewolves to settle his gambling debt."
❀
"I'm going to count to three," Logan growls. He doesn't have to say the rest. If I haven't come to him by then, he'll come to me... and I'll regret it.
I know this game, and I...
Sold to a Wolf Pack did NOT make the Wattys2018 award longlist. I'm going to break out the Ben & Jerrys, watch a sappy movie on Netflix, and grab some tissues... maybe even give my stories a makeover. If you entered but didn't make it either, I'm really sorry. Take a moment to grieve, but please never stop creating stories. There will always be people who don't think you're not good enough, but you need to believe in yourself and keep doing what you love.
And those of you who made the longlist: congratulations! I'm extremely happy and excited for you! Just let everyone know in the comments so we can celebrate. And you'll have my full support: shoutouts, reads, votes... Anything I can do to help one of my readers get through!
And for anyone like me who didn't make it (or who just didn't apply) your stories deserve some love! So feel free to promote your stories in the comments here, read each other's stuff, and keep writing.
And now, the chapter (with special thanks to my advanced readers for helping me edit and to lazejr for the end of chapter questions)!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Mrs. Jones?" I call out in surprise. "What are you doing out here?"
"Logan?" Amaryllis's Mom's head snaps up. "Thank the Goddess! Did you get my text? Rylie's missing. I couldn't reach your parents, or Beta. I didn't know what else to do."
"Rogues," I spit, and her face goes pale. I quickly sum up everything that's happened, then add, "The challenge starts at sunset."
"Oh no. We don't have much time." She falls to her knees. "These scents, are they the Rogues? I'm really hoping it's just some pack kids."
I think she's having some sort of nervous breakdown until her words register. I bend down next to her, grimacing when Daniel's jeans dig painfully into my belly. I take a tiny breath, trying not to inhale too much air, and the disgusting smell of Daniel's sweat wafts in. It's on the tank I'm wearing and masks everything else. There's also Saf's Dad's scent on my shoes, but below that, on the gravel, their scents repeat. They were here. "No. It's them."
"They have Rylie." Mrs. Jones jumps to her feet.
"How do you know?"
"Because she left clues. There!" Mrs. Jones points at something on the other side of the road. She breaks into a run, hair and skirt flying, and my flip flops click with each step as I race in pursuit.
We stop in front of a crudely drawn arrow, etched in the dirt by a wolf's paw. It points north, and Mrs. Jones bends down to give it a sniff. After a moment's hesitation, and a curse aimed at Daniel's jeans, I do the same.
"It's Rylie's scent," Mrs. Jones confirms. "We have to go."
She breaks into a run, jumps inside the SUV, and starts the engine. I barely have enough time to climb inside before she peels away. A cloud of dust forms around us as she veers onto the highway, and I slide sideways, crashing into the door.
