The howl rolled across the mountain.
One voice.
Then another.
Then hundreds.
Every wolf in Blackwood Pack lifted their head toward the night as something beneath the earth answered them.
The mountain shook.
Dust poured from the cavern ceiling.
Draven hit the ground hard after the stitched creature released him. He rolled once before forcing himself back to his feet, blood dripping from the claw marks carved across his neck.
"Lila!"
I couldn't answer.
The black seam on my arm had split almost halfway to my shoulder now.
Darkness seeped from the wound, curling around my feet like smoke searching for a way home.
The stitched creature watched it with quiet satisfaction.
Its followers remained kneeling.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
"The first turn is done," it said, its voice echoin
