Scarlet
The first time I heard it, I thought I was losing my mind.
A voice—low, whispering, curling around my thoughts like a creeping vine. It slithered through my mind, wrapping itself around my consciousness, seductive yet chilling. It called to me from the woods beyond the pack’s borders, from the shadows that stretched long beneath the moonlight.
Scarlet.
I snapped my head up, my heart slamming against my ribs as I spun in place. The training grounds were empty save for a few younger wolves sparring in the distance, their movements sharp but unfocused. I could hear their laughter, their grunts of exertion, but nothing else. No one had spoken my name.
I shook my head and exhaled sharply, pushing the eerie sensation aside. I had more pressing concerns.
The attacks were increasing.
