The urgency in the air was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest as the howls continued to echo across the land. But something was different now—these weren’t the calls of rogue wolves, at least not in the way we feared. They were desperate, pained, filled with a need for help.
The pack warriors stiffened, their bodies tensing as they shifted into combat-ready positions. Kyro was the first to move, his sharp eyes locking onto the distant figures emerging from the trees. “Prepare yourselves,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “We’re not facing rogues... These are wolves from the East River pack. They need our help the rogues are a few yards behind them.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as the realization sank in. The East River pack? They were an ally, not a threat.
