Damian felt it before he heard it, a wrongness in the air that made every hair on his arms stand up.
The moment he stepped back into camp, he knew.
The usual noise of a warrior’s camp had gone quiet, replaced by something heavier. His wolves stood stiff, eyes darting toward the shadows.
“Where’s Amara?”
The question came from a young wolf near the fire, nervous, uncertain.
Damian’s head snapped up. He scanned the camp for her familiar shape, expecting to find her arguing with someone, or watching from a distance the way she always did. Nothing.
His blood ran cold.
“Where is she,” he demanded, stalking toward the nearest guard.
The man hesitated. “She, she was here a little while ago. I think she stepped away from the fire.”
“And no one followed her?”
“We didn’t think—”
A feral g
