Randall’s POVStanding in the middle of a vast, desolate clearing east of the Drusen pack, near the neutral borders, I glanced around the area for any sign of Lyra or whatever could lead me to her. Unfortunately, it was the last place that my fallen tracker’s scent was picked up, not too far away from the place his body was found. I sniffed around the area but there was no sign of Lyra, not even a single piece of evidence that she might have set foot in that area. My wolf pranced around beneath my skin as I scoured the entire perimeter, certain that Lyra, my Lyra, was somewhere around there, just beyond the tree line. Although I couldn't perceive her scent, nor could my wolf feel hers, I still felt her presence like a phantom limb, an ache in my chest that refused to dull. “Lyra, where are you?” I drawled, looking behind a very tall Mahogany tree as if she was going to magically appear there for my sake. As I continued to look around, wandering around the vast land, Juan's words
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