POV: KAELThe market is alive, as always, loud, messy, smelling of fried bread and fresh herbs, sweaty bodies pressing past me on every side, and I’m trying to focus on the thyme and valerian I need for the infirmary, but my wolf is restless before I even cross the first stall.“They’re here,” he mutters inside me, low, tense, teeth gritted in the echo of my thoughts.“What?” I whisper back, eyes flicking over the crowd. “Who? Where?”“Not humans. Too quiet. Too watchful,” he snaps, pulling at my chest, tense, tight. My gut twists. I scan quickly.And then I see them. Wolves. Standing just beyond the border of Emano’s influence, faces obscured by hoods, noses twitching. They linger too long. They ask questions. They measure. My teeth clench.“They’re not traders,” I growl under my breath.My wolf hums low in agreement, muscles twitching. “We’re being watched.”I pretend to tie up my herbs, smile at the human stall owner who’s offering me a discount. “Thanks,” I say, and move faster, w
آخر تحديث : 2026-01-10 اقرأ المزيد