Soul Lines (Completed)

Chapter One

Chapter One
Elle's POV

It was a silly thought, but I felt like I was in a L'Oréal hair commercial. Flying through the canopy of trees, my hair fluttered, whipped, and tumbled, rolling through the wind like an ocean wave.

I should have tied it back.

I shoved the thought away – there was no time for hesitation. Three more steps. Two. One. And I lept, suspended midair for one breathless moment before gravity trapped me in its hold. What felt like thirty earth-defying seconds passed before my fingers caught the edge of the metal rod. My fingers smarted against the cold as my arms threatened to snap at the sudden halt of descent.

I'd made it. The sharp shirp whirled overhead as the zip-line pulley took my weight, and I dropped over the ledge, the forest opening up beneath me.

I would never get used to the feeling. The churning lightness felt as though I'd left my stomach behind. Or the eight shots of adrenaline pumping through my veins like double espresso shots. My heart fluttered like hummingbird wings as the world streaked by.

My fingers slipped as teeth scraped softly against my ankle, a low warning growl fighting to be heard over the trees which sang their winter song. I tightened my hold, lifting my feet as a low-hanging branch zipped by, threatening to catch me as I passed.

My laugh was shaky, 'Thanks,' I said, but then paused and added a question, 'Carl?'

This time his growl had more of a bite, and he jumped once more in a playful warning.

I looked down at him—a mistake. My fingers slipped, and my heart lurched painfully. Silence hung in the air for too long, but then a burst of noise broke the barrier.

The wolf beneath me was a blur of shadows as he lept, landing beneath me with a winded bark, softening my fall with a long, low whine.

I groaned, pushing past pained muscles to roll from his limp form. I ignored the sting of sticks and stones digging into my flesh. I sucked in three quick lungfuls of air, attempting to steady my galloping heart.

No sooner than I was away from him, he bounded to his feet, turning to me fervently. He came close, a tentative touch to the side of my face, and then a sandpapered tongue trekked across my cheek.

I groaned, pushing him away, flinging my arm over my eyes to block out the sun's blinding light. My efforts did nothing, and he came back, searching me for signs of injury, the tip of his nose cold and wet against my skin.

Tired of his persistence, I placed a hand over his snout a second time and pushed, sitting up. He didn't go far, staying close enough that I could feel his hot breath as he panted, but I ignored it, massaging the stiffened joints of my wrists, trying to loosen them back up. 'So,' I sighed, struggling to keep a straight face. 'You're not Carl Beckford, then?'

He snorted but continued sulking, dropping his head, his haunches tensed. He was hardly any fun when he moped, so I tangled my arms around him, knotting my hands in his fur so he would struggle to get away if he tried, and buried the side of my face into his fur. 'How about Peter Lewis?'

He chortled, snapping playfully at my ear.

I couldn't remember how many guesses I'd made, none of them had ever felt right as I'd said them, but I was running out of names. There were only so many people in my grade. 'Alright,' I sighed, a ping of laughter on my lips as his massive head shook, 'Not Peter.'

With a snort, he dropped to the ground, offering his body as a pillow. I settled against him, staring at the leaf-speckled sky as I rose and fell with each breath. 'You know that there are only so many people at our school. I'll have to get it right someday.'