THE DRAEVEN
The difference was immediate.
Not frightening. Not what I had expected. Not the cold hostility of wrong territory or the aggressive resistance of a boundary that didn't want you. Just different. The specific quality of air that has never been part of a seal. Wilder. More alive in certain frequencies and entirely absent in others.
My wolf lifted her head.
Not in alarm. In curiosity.
This was what the world felt like without the anchor. Not bad. Different. The way music sounds different in an open field than in a room neither better nor worse, but with completely different acoustics.
Roger felt it too. I could tell by the quality of his breathing.
"It's not hostile," he said quietly.
"No," I said.
We walked.
The northern highland forest was different from Silverwood's p
