The clearing should have felt crowded.
Instead—
Denise had never felt more exposed.
Hundreds of eyes surrounded her.
Yet the thing watching from inside the bond felt closer than all of them.
Stronger.
Older.
Hungry.
The sensation vanished so quickly she almost convinced herself she imagined it.
Almost.
A hand brushed hers.
Liam.
The contact was brief.
Barely noticeable.
But the instant their skin touched, the pressure eased.
Not gone.
Just… quieter.
His eyes never left the elders.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
Nobody answered immediately.
The hesitation spoke volumes.
The oldest elder finally sighed.
“There are stories.”
A collective groan moved through the gathering.
Stories.
Every wolf hated stories.
Because stories usually meant things nobody could explain.
An
