I draw back the bowstring, pulling it taut as my stitches do the same, threatening to tear. Pain sears through my abdomen and along my ribs but I bite my tongue, ignoring it. I smile slightly as I say, “Sorry to ruin your handiwork, partner.” “Pae, don’t you dare—” I fire. The arrow finds its mark in the chest of the closest wolf, burying deep into that shiny, silver fur.
