The forest was quieter than Nixon expected.
No patrol scents.
No territorial markings.
No distant howls.
Nothing.
Only the sound of wind moving gently through towering trees as he followed Talia deeper into the wilderness.
At some point, the path disappeared completely.
And yet Talia never hesitated.
Bare feet brushed over roots and moss as if the forest itself guided her steps. Nixon stayed close behind her, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow automatically.
His wolf remained restless.
Not because of danger.
Because this place felt… strange.
Ancient.
Alive.
Then suddenly, the trees opened.
Nixon stopped walking.
A clearing stretched before them beneath soft afternoon sunlight. Wildflowers blanketed the earth in shades of lavender, white, and pale blue. A narrow stream cur
