WREN'S POV
The forest surrounding the Silver Pack estate was unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you and demanded attention. I walked the winding path with Hunter, the soft crunch of leaves under our boots the only sound. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on us both, and the tension between the allied packs was still fresh in my mind. We decided to take a little time off and unwind, taking stroll round the forest.
Hunter’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, his amber eyes scanning the trees. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his voice low. “What’s on your mind?”
I hesitated, then signed, “Everything. The alliance, Gertrude, the curse. It feels like we’re running out of time.” The ritual at the sacred spring was supposed to be our means
