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You don’t even know that you’ve entered the Wastes until it’s too late. One moment you’re watching the grass slowly desiccate into dirt, and the next, you’re surrounded by nothing but cracked ground and dusty wind. The air becomes hard without the distinct humidity gifted by the Great River, and breathing is only possible through the cotton of a face shield.

The weather is unpredictable here, where just a few drops in temperature can lead to massive thunder-filled dust storms called haboobs. That’s what the extra rope is for. If we get stuck in a storm, we’ll tie ourselves together and try to hunker down somewhere to wait it out. If we’re lucky, it’ll happen near a town, where we can fight Biters instead of getting cut by stinging winds. If we’re not lucky, we’ll whisper prayers to the Earth and hold on tight.

My wolf is pushing me hard, wanting us to hurry as we’re chased by the full moon, but we have to be careful with Raine. Unlike Ferris and me, she’s been on flatlands her whole life, and will struggle with decreased oxygen levels from the ever-increasing elevation. We have a few more days before the elevation will be very noticeable, so I plan to get us as far as we can, as fast as we can, then ease our way into the mountainous terrain surrounding the Foothill Territory.

We stop when the wind starts picking up, and I help Raine and Ferris cover their faces with T-shirts so that the dust doesn’t end up in their noses and lungs. I also give Raine one of my flannels to change into so that she doesn’t get overheated in her jacket but can still have protection from the sun. Even with all the coverage we can manage, the bridge of her nose is a near-constant pink, and her freckles have spread like wildfire, painting her skin in the story of our journey.

7 Days Until the Full Moon

“Not to be cliché,” Raine says from several paces in front of me, “but how many days of this are we going to have to endure?”

It’s been a full day in the Wastes, and the landscape is officially hostile. The wind is a near-constant threat, drying out any inch of skin it touches and pushing dust into every crevice. To eat, we have to line our packs up into a makeshift wall and hunch down to open our mouths behind their protection. Otherwise, you just get a mouth of dirt. We’re officially low on water, and none of us have been sleeping well out in the open.

“Sorry, baby. We’ve still got about five days, and that’s if the weather holds and we don’t run into any trouble.” My wolf is also losing patience. We’re down to less than one week before the full moon, and I expect the beginning symptoms of rut will soon set in. He and I are both going to have to keep it together and maybe start processing the fact that there’s almost zero chance we’ll make it onto wolf land in time.

Ferris sidles up next to me and quietly asks, “Maybe we should start looking for a city? We’re going to need to refill our water, and it might be good for all of us to be able to rest through the night.”

I sigh. “I’m not sure how much luck we’re going to have, but we can start looking. If we’re careful, we can stretch our water for two more days, so there’s still time.”

“I don’t like it, but what if you shifted and scouted ahead?” he asks, uncertain.

I shake my head. “It’s not worth it. Shifting will burn the food and water in my body faster than if I just stay human.” I don’t mention I worry that if my wolf comes out this close to the full moon, I may not be able to wrestle him back.

Ferris moves even closer and softly asks, “Have you noticed anything about Raine’s scent?”

Terror slices through my veins as I deeply inhale her scent trailing in her wake. I relax when I realize that it’s not heat pheromones that Ferris is smelling. I nudge him with my elbow. “That’s your bond. She and her omega are finally accepting your bond, so her scent is evolving, changing just a smidge to include a piece of yours.”

Ferris’s scent shifts between happiness and heartbreak. “Do you think she can ever truly forgive me?”

“Yeah, man, I do. I think you’re a lot closer than you think, too. You’ve been attentive and supportive every day, showing both of us how serious you are about her. I can see and feel how different you are with her, so I’m sure she can feel it too.”

Before he can respond, Raine turns and starts walking backward, shouting to us, “Are you boys talking about me? Is it because my butt looks so good in these pants?” Her eyes twinkle under the ballcap I let her borrow, and I’m hit with familiar disbelief that she chose me. Gods, even covered from head to toe and caked in dirt, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

“We’re so fucking lucky,” Ferris says, eyes trained on Raine.

As I look back and forth between my pack, I can’t help but agree.

Iwake up with a start, my wolf already present and barking at me. Danger, he growls, and I go on full alert, ignoring the tempting pile of Ferris and Raine at my side.

My nostrils flare wide, taking in the scents seeping through the tent, but I detect no humans, Biters, or animals. I strain my ears, but there’s nothing but the loud whine of the wind against the slick fabric of our tent. Despite feeling well rested, the sun hasn’t risen if the dark tent is anything to go by.

What am I missing? I huff out an aggravated breath and freeze. Dread presses down on me, making it hard to breathe, but I force myself to exhale another big breath. I hold very still as it frosts in the air around us; air that is far colder than it was when we went to sleep.

“Fuck,” I snap, then spring into action. “Raine, Ferris! It’s time to go!”

Ferris pops up first, brandishing a knife he had hidden somewhere, and looks around wildly. “What is it?”

“We need to be packed up in the next five minutes. The temperature dropped while we were sleeping. I don’t even know what time it is.”

Raine grumbles and rolls onto her back. “Why are you talking and not sleeping?”

I start shoving shit into my pack with zero planning, tossing what won’t fit to Ferris so he can do the same. “We gotta go, baby. A storm is coming if it isn’t already here.”

“Shit,” she breathes, and then scrambles off the blanket pile to start rolling it up.

We’re out of the tent in just a minute, ready to break it down, when it becomes apparent that the storm is indeed already here. It’s not dark because it’s still nighttime; it’s dark because a giant, dark cloud is slowly eating the sky.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant. Ferris and I start tearing down the tent with zero finesse, just unhooking poles and rolling the material in on itself so that it can get shoved into its sleeve.