It starts with the bond. Not gently. Not like a warning. It jerks tight—sharp, urgent, flooding me with heat and static all at once. I gasp awake, heart hammering, power flaring instinctively before I can clamp it down. The Alpha is already moving. “Border,” he growls, voice rough with the same surge hitting me. “East ridge.” I’m on my feet before the word finishes echoing. Outside, the night is wrong. Too quiet. No insects. No distant patrol calls. The air smells metallic, like storm-soaked stone—and something else underneath it. Blood. We don’t speak as we run. Wolves pour from dens and quarters, half-shifted, tense, eyes glowing low. No one looks at me this time with hesitation. They look relieved. The east ridge comes into view—and so does the breach. Three bodies first. Our scouts. One still breathing, barely. The ground around them is scorched black in uneven rings, earth cracked as if something punched heat straight through stone. “This isn’t a rogue pack,” someone
Last Updated : 2026-01-31 Read more