12

AMIRA

For two days, I tried over and over to call Lyra back. Panic sat heavy in my chest the entire time.

I needed answers. I needed to know what she knew and why she had warned me to run.

Most of all, I needed to tell her what Derrick wanted from me.

Every call failed.

It wasn't surprising. Deep inside the Frostpeak Mountains, there were no phones and definitely no signal.

However Lyra had managed to contact me, it was obvious the connection only worked one way.

There was no way to warn her.

Apart from that, I spent those days worrying.

My knee and ankle were still swollen, covered in fading bruises. The pain hadn't disappeared, but I could put more weight on the leg now.

As long as I moved carefully and kept my legs hidden beneath my pants, Derrick wouldn't realize I hadn't healed completely.

Victor never came back.

None of the staff did.

That was when it finally hit me that this would probably be my last time here.

For three years, the Silver Fang Tavern had been my home.

If everything worked out, this place would become nothing more than a memory someday.

Not every moment here had been terrible.

When Gareth gave me enough room to breathe, life had almost felt normal.

There had been music.

There had been dancing.

There had even been moments when I could relax.

Whenever he wasn't giving me space, he was pushing me harder instead. Gareth always wanted me to improve. He pushed and pushed until it became impossible to ignore.

Unfortunately, he was usually a complete jerk about it.

While packing my things, I carefully slipped the only photograph I owned into a plastic bag before placing it inside one of the compartments of my backpack.

His son had bought him a new smartphone once, and I had helped him figure out how to use it.

He had taken exactly one picture of us together.

The day before he took his own life, I found that photograph lying on my bed.

Even now, I struggled to believe he had committed suicide.

Maybe I should have noticed something was wrong.

Maybe the signs had been there all along.

Gareth wasn't sentimental.

Not even close.

He definitely wasn't the kind of man who would print a photograph and leave it behind as a gift.

Packing didn't take long.

There wasn't much that belonged to me.

Originally, I planned to carry my old duffel bag, but the backpack left behind at the tavern yesterday came with a note telling me to use it instead.

It was designed specifically for wolf shifters.

The special elastic material could stretch and shrink during a shift, allowing a wolf to keep wearing it.

For long journeys, it was incredibly useful.

Not that it mattered.

I wasn't planning to shift.

Did Derrick seriously think I had been joking about that?

Friday morning arrived beneath gray clouds and a cold drizzle.

Autumn was hanging on by a thread, but winter wasn't far away. Soon the rain would become snow, and the Frostpeak Mountains would freeze beneath thick layers of ice.

Wolves loved snow.

Humans didn't.

Travel became harder.

Supply runs slowed down.

The pack usually started rationing resources.

Trips down the mountain stopped altogether.

Most leaders would have been preparing for that.

Instead, Derrick was taking his people deeper into the mountains.

Deeper into Moonshade Woodlands.

There were no instructions about where to meet them.

So at first light, I gathered my things, adjusted my pack, and slowly stepped outside the Silver Fang Inn.

Six wolves were already waiting.

My feet stopped moving.

A knot formed in my stomach.

I had known Derrick wouldn't come alone. The thought of traveling with him had been terrifying enough.

But six wolves?

That felt excessive.

Slowly closing the door behind me, I walked toward them with my eyes lowered.

"She's limping," Thorne growled.

His voice carried clear irritation.

"We already have to travel on two legs because of her, and now she's limping too."

So much for hiding my injury.

"Believe me," I said quietly without looking up, "stealth matters more than speed. Observation matters more than strength. You'll need to shift from time to time to deal with rogue wolves, but shifting won't help you avoid magical traps."

The air immediately grew tense.

I could practically feel Derrick's irritation.

"She's fine," he growled.

Thorne stepped closer.

"If even one of us gets injured because of you," he said coldly, "I'll kill you."

That made me lift my head.

"You can try reaching Moonshade Woodlands without me if you'd like," I replied. "There are trees there that will trap you and slowly drain the life from your body. Do you honestly think you'd recognize them before it's too late?"

A growl rumbled from Thorne's chest.

Before things could get worse, Derrick stepped forward.

"Enough."

His voice carried the weight of command.

"She comes with us. Her freedom depends entirely on whether we succeed."

I frowned.

"Why bring so many wolves? A smaller group would have a better chance."

"Not for what we need."

Derrick folded his arms.

"Eldric is our healer. You already know Thorne is my second. Selene is my third. Draven and Lucian are my highest-ranking guards."

My stomach dropped.

He had brought his second and third?

Who had he left in charge of the pack?

"Let's move," I said. "If we're lucky, we'll reach Moonshade Woodlands before nightfall."

"You won't get far inside Moonshade Woodlands with a group this large," I warned. "The amount of power you're carrying alone will draw attention."

A slow smile touched Derrick's face.

There was something dangerous about it.

"Power," he purred, "is never a bad thing."

His eyes locked onto mine.

"And I'm certainly not taking advice from you."