we knew we'd never make it down there

“i promise,” the other wolf says, and beau knows he’s been caught. he’s hidden in the swamplands, smothered under damp, disgusting earth and mud, shrouded in the darkness of the bushes and yet – someone found him. he is lost and now he is found, and stars, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt as terrified.

he shouldn’t speak. He shouldn’t say anything at all. Lucian would kill him if he knew that beau had broken every single rule he’d ever laid out in the hopes of keep beau safe. But there’s something inside of him, something awful and agonising and yet, begging for him to step about from the shadows, away from safety.
“how did you find me?” beau feels himself ask, a whisper of words that can barely be heard over the ambience of the swampland.

as soon as they leave his mouth, he squeals in spite of himself, his mind caught between an awful storm of needing to hide the way he’s been taught, and the need to escape and know things about the world that has been concealed away from him.