Jamie fought his way through the thick forest, the dry branches cracking under his boots.
Blood ran down his shirt. His hands were filthy. He looked like a man who had been fighting his way through the forest for ages.
That was the plan.
He staggered upon the border of Greyer Pack lands, out of breath. His cloak was ripped. Mud smeared his face.
Everything needed to look real.
The guards noticed him.
"Alpha Jamie?" one of them called, approaching with a torch.
"I returned as fast as I could," Jamie gasped, rushing forward. "Any sign of Lucas?"
The guard turned his head. "Not yet. But we keep trying."
Jamie nodded.
He walked in the direction of the middle hall, simulating a limp, but every step was calculated. Controlled.
Maeven waited for him in the hall.
Her expression was o
