Chapter 19
Mark’s POV
The howl came first—sharp, fractured, and wrong.
Not the steady call of a scout or a warning cry from the borders. This was a sound ripped from fear.
Rhael burst through the door again before I could even move. His chest heaved, his eyes wide and wild. “Mark—fire. It’s the southern ridge.”
The words slammed into me.
For a heartbeat, the room stood still—the moonlight, the air, even Gabriella. Then everything moved at once.
I was already running.
The corridor blurred as we sprinted, boots thundering down the narrow hall. The bond was alive again, electric with panic. Through it, I could feel the pulse of a hundred hearts, the sharp flare of alarm radiating through the pack.
Smoke met us halfway down the staircase. Faint, bitter, curling upward through the ston
