Shadows Speak
The moon hung high in the sky, a silver sentinel watching over the forest. Mist wove between the trees, thick and heavy, blanketing the earth in an eerie hush. The scent of blood still clung to the air—faint now, but unmistakable. Rowan stood guard just beyond the perimeter of the camp, shoulders tense, eyes narrowed into the night.
Inside the healer’s den, Caleb rested fitfully, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms. The wound he had taken protecting the young pup still throbbed like a phantom pain in Rowan’s own body. He had barely left Caleb’s side for more than a few moments since it happened—but something had drawn him out tonight. A whisper in the wind. A shift in the silence.
Something was coming.
Rowan’s hand hovered near the hilt of his blade. He didn’t
