Dawn broke pale and quiet beyond the known borders.
Alden woke to the smell of unfamiliar earth and woodsmoke that did not belong to his pack, and for a moment, the distance pressed in on him.
Then Rowan kicked his boot lightly.
“Up, heir,” Rowan muttered. “We don’t oversleep in strange lands.”
Alden groaned but sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. Around them, the younger wolves were already stirring, alert but not tense.
They had crossed into three different territories now. No hostility. No grand welcomes.
Just cautious curiosity.
It was… promising.
The independent wolves from the night before had offered them a meal at sunrise.
Not generosity.
A test.
Alden accepted, sitting cross-legged near the fire, hands visible, posture open.
The gray-muzzled elder studied him acros
