"Five," I said.
We moved forward slowly. Cal took the lead, his body language careful, submissive. Non-threatening.
As we got closer, details emerged.
They were thin. Desperately thin — ribs visible through matted fur, haunches wasted. Their coats were filthy, tangled with ice and old blood. And their eyes—
Empty.
These wolves had nothing. Just hunger. Just fear. Just the hollow stare of animals who had forgotten they were ever human.
All five were male. All five were growling.
The sound built on itself — five voices blending into a wall of threat. Low. Constant. Promising violence.
"They're terrified," Neal said quietly behind me. "Look at them. They don't know what to do with us."
He was right. They weren't attacking, but they weren't running either. Just standing there, growling, trapped between fight and flight.
Cal stepped forward.
He moved slowly, deliberately. Then he yipped.
The sound was soft. Almost plaintive. A greeting in the only language they might still understand.
Four of the wolves went still.
I watched it happen — the way their growls faltered, the way their ears swiveled toward Cal. Something flickered in those empty eyes. Not recognition, exactly. Deeper than that. Older.
Pack memory. The bond that had connected them.
One by one, four of them lowered their eyes.
Cal made another sound. A whine, high and desperate. Through the bond, I felt his grief — years of guilt crashing down on him, the overwhelming relief of finding them alive.
The four wolves crept closer. Cautious. Wary. But drawn to Cal like they couldn't help themselves.
"It's working," James breathed.
"Wait." I was still counting. Four wolves approaching Cal. Four sets of lowered eyes. "Where's the fifth?"
I scanned the plateau.
Found him.
He stood apart from the others, near a rock formation to the left. I didn't know how I'd missed him before — he was massive. Bigger than any wolf I'd ever seen, shoulders nearly reaching my chest. His fur was black, matted with old blood, his body a map of scars and half-healed wounds.
He wasn't growling like the others.
He was silent. Still. Watching.
And he was looking directly at me.
Our eyes met.
My breath caught.
No.
