The moment the scouts return, I know something is wrong. It’s in the way they stumble through the tree line instead of running.
In the way their chests heave, breaths ragged and uneven. In the scent... fear, blood, urgency... clinging to them like smoke.
I’m on my feet before they even reach the clearing.
“What happened?” I demand, already moving toward them, my wolf surging forward, alert and ready.
Rayven is beside me a second later, his presence steady but tense. “Report.”
One of the scouts, Darian, drops to a knee, his hand braced against the ground as he struggles to catch his breath.
“We found her,” he says.
Everything in me stills.
My heart stops. My wolf goes silent.
“And?” I push, stepping closer.
His head lifts, eyes locking onto mine. “She’s real.”
A sharp inhale tear
