LORRY SPRINGSTONE'S/KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
Elowen's voice cuts through the fog, steady and reassuring. "Keep moving. Don't stop, no matter what you see or hear."
We press on, our footsteps muffled by the thick mist. Time becomes impossible to track, and I can't tell if we've been walking for minutes or hours. The landscape around us constantly shifts, sometimes revealing tantalizing glimpses of familiar places in the South pack's territory.
I hear Eden whimper softly and instinctively tighten my grip on his hand.
"It's okay, sweetie," I murmur, trying to keep my own voice steady. "Just keep walking."
And out of the blue, a haunting melody drifts through the mist. It's beautiful and eerily familiar, reminding me of the lullabies my late mother used to sing so I could sleep. I
