Ashyra tightened her grip on the saddle as her wolf, Lyric, moved swiftly through the narrow path flanked by twisted pines and dry riverbeds. Beside her, Stephan rode a sleek obsidian-gray wolf—smaller than Ashyra’s, but faster. They hadn’t spoken much since leaving the summit, but the silence between them felt less brittle. Less like they were trying to avoid each other and more like they were bracing for whatever lay ahead.
The western perimeter of the Silverclaw Pack’s territory bordered the ancient chasm known as the Faultline—a scar in the earth older than most pack records. It was rumored to be the place where the earth first cracked open during the Shattering Wars, and even the trees grew twisted here. No one liked patrolling the area. Most believed it cursed.
Ashyra scanned the t
