I woke to howling.
The sound cut through my dreams — wild, mournful, echoing off the peaks until it seemed to come from everywhere at once. I was out of my sleeping bag before I was fully conscious, heart pounding, breath fogging in the frigid air.
Cal was standing at the edge of camp, head thrown back, voice rising to join the chorus.
Not just one howl. Many. Four, maybe five, weaving together in the darkness. Distant, but closer than before. Closer than they'd been when we made camp.
They were coming.
James emerged from the tent behind me, his eyes glowing faintly gold. His wolf was close to the surface, responding to the call.
He tilted his head, listening. "A few miles away. Hard to tell with the echoes."
Cal's howl faded. He turned to look at me, and even in the darkness I could see the intensity in his eyes. The bond blazed with a single emotion.
"At first light," I said. "We move at first light."
He whined. Impatient. But he didn't argue — just paced back to the edge of camp and stood watching the darkness.
Waiting for dawn.
Neal appeared beside me, medical bag already in hand. "If we're going to encounter ferals tomorrow, I need to prep sedatives. Enough for multiple wolves."
"Do it."
"Lumi." His voice was careful. "You understand what we might find. Ferals who've been isolated for years. They won't be like Cal. They won't recognize us as allies."
"I know."
"They might attack."
"I know that too."
He hesitated. Then: "If it comes to a choice between them and you—"
"It won't."
"If it does."
I turned to face him. In the starlight, his features were all shadows and angles.
"It won't," I repeated. "Because I'm not leaving anyone behind. Not again."
Chapter eight
We found them at midday.
The plateau opened up without warning — one moment we were climbing through a narrow pass, the next we were standing at the edge of a vast white expanse. The wind cut through my layers, but I barely noticed.
Because there, at the far edge of the plateau, shadows moved against the snow.
Wolves.
Cal went rigid beside me. Through the bond, I felt recognition crash through him like a wave.
"How many?" James asked quietly.
I counted. Five shapes, dark against white. They'd seen us. They were watching.
