Pack life continues around me, wolves rotating through training, someone arguing over rations, a pair of children racing past with wild laughter.Peyton crosses the clearing with a basket of herbs, pausing to speak with an older woman near the infirmary.
“Our new family,”my wolf whispers, aching.
I don’t answer her.I know from experience most wolves can’t talk to their wolves directly.It’s just another way that I am different from everyone else.That and the damn ghosts who won’t stop whispering.
They follow me through the day as I’m assigned small tasks, helping a woman named Ingrid unload supplies, repairing a section of fence, sharing a meal at the long table where no one questions my presence or my appetite.I am introduced to fighters and healers, new and old pack members, and shifters who aren’t wolf but panther or leopard.And even a human named Iris who is mated to two wolves.
It’s too much and somehow grounding at the same time.It fills me with a sense of belonging and scares the shit out of me all at once.
Every time I glance toward the woods, there they are.Waiting.Watching.
“Soon,”they murmur in a chorus.“Soon.”
****
By late afternoon,my nerves are shot.
I slip away from the compound under the excuse of checking snares, moving just far enough toward the tree line that the air shifts and the dead press closer.The moment I cross that invisible threshold, they surge forward, voices overlapping in a rush that makes my head spin.
“Stop,” I hiss.“One at a time.”
They listen.Always have.
A male steps forward, older, his features calm despite the wounds that mark him as long dead.“Beware the Hunters,”he says.“They are setting a trap.”
My chest tightens.I’ve heard of these Hunters in the time I have been on my own and I know that they are dangerous to all shifters.“Where?”
“South by the old quarry.They’re expecting the wolves who rescue the trapped.”
Images bleed into my mind, metal cages in rows upon rows, silver threaded through traps, and scent bait strong enough to make a shifter reckless.
“Who told you?”I whisper.
“We saw,”another ghost says simply.“We linger where we died.”
My hands curl into fists.This isn’t new.The hunters have been circling for months, testing the edges of Katu territory.I’ve heard the talk, felt the fear spread through the pack.But this, this feels deliberate.Targeted.
“They’ll get slaughtered,” I murmur.
“Unless you warn them,”the first ghost says gently.
I swallow hard.The problem with the truth is that once you speak it, you can’t take it back.
Grayson finds me just inside the tree line, my shoulders tight, and my gaze unfocused.He doesn’t ask what I’m doing out here.He just steps close enough that the bond steadies me.
“You’re shaking,” he says quietly.
“I’m fine.”
He lifts an eyebrow.“You need to lie better.”
I huff out a breath despite myself.“Okay, I’m not fine.But I will be.Eventually.”
We stand there for a moment, the forest breathing around us.He follows my gaze to the empty space just beyond the boundary.“You’re listening again,” he says.“What do you hear?”
I freeze.
“You don’t see anything?”I ask carefully.
