The howl came again, closer, and this time Amara heard it clearly enough to know she’d been wrong.
It wasn’t calling her name. It only sounded that way, twisted by fear and distance and the strange new sharpness of her hearing. What it actually was, she realized as Damian’s shoulders dropped half an inch, was a signal.
“Stand down,” Damian said, though his hand didn’t leave the hilt at his side. “That’s a pack call.”
“Yours?” Amara asked, heart still slamming against her ribs.
“Mine.”
Callan lowered his blade slowly, watching the treeline with the same wary focus as before. “You’re sure?”
“I know my own wolves.” Damian’s eyes narrowed on the dark. “Which means something’s wrong enough that they’re breaking cover to find me.”
They didn’t have to wait long. Four shapes emerged from th
