#Chapter 7: Captive
Moana
“Hey! Stop!” the scar-faced man shouted.
I ran as fast as I could, willing my legs to pump harder, to push me further away from the imminent danger that I sensed. I could hear the sound of footsteps pounding on the sidewalk behind me; I was just a human, and these men were werewolves. I should’ve known I wouldn’t stand a chance trying to outrun them.
I screamed for help, but no one came -- no one ever came when a woman screamed for help in the city, and I cursed them for that in that moment.
The sound of the men running behind me came closer. I felt as though my body didn’t belong to me, like I was watching from a third person perspective as I ran for my life.
The two men gained on me. They were so close now that I knew that one misstep on my part would allow them to catch me. I felt a hand brush my shoulder and I shrieked, pushing myself faster as I glanced over my shoulder to look…
Whack!
I ran into something hard and gritty: a corner of a bri

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