The forest changed before dawn.
Callen felt it first.
He was standing at the edge of the eastern border when the air thickened—heavy, wrong. Birds went silent. The wind shifted, carrying a scent that didn’t belong to his pack.
Rogues.
Not close enough to attack. Not far enough to ignore.
They were circling.
In the distance, shadows moved between the trees—low, massive shapes pacing with deliberate patience.
Wolves. Too lean. Too scarred. Eyes catching moonlight as they watched the land like it was already theirs.
They stayed in their wolf forms.
Always a threat when they did.
Callen’s jaw tightened. “They’re here for her,” he said flatly.
Behind him, the elders exchanged grim looks.
“It’s the mark,” one of them murmured. “The heat stirred it.”
Inside the pack house, Aisha sti
