Sharp pains jab into my upper arm as Andrew spins me around and shoves me forward (which is now technically backward, but that's a minor detail I have no business obsessing over in this moment of urgency).
"Get out of here," he grits out, not even looking my way. He's still staring in the direction of Fenris and the stupid wolves Ellie's brought with her to kill us all.
"But—" The last time he had me run, he was in danger. Granted, Fenris is here to be on his side and my favorite murder wolf makes a huge difference, no pun intended.
"They aren't pack," he snaps. "Get out of here!"
Aren't pack?
My head swirls as I try to turn back around, but this time Andrew shoves me so hard I stumble a few steps forward and almost fall to my knees.
"Then who—"
"Just get out of here!"
Heart: Stay and die defending your friends.
Brain: Shut up and listen to the man.
Damn it. I'm worse than no help—I'm a walking, talking, breathing, useless liability who, by the way, is Ellie's prime target.
