The howl didn’t fade.
It stretched through the trees, weaving itself into the wind until the forest began to hum with it. Every leaf, every stone seemed to vibrate with that strange, wild sound.
I followed it.
Not because I was curious, but because something deep inside me already knew I had to.
The path ahead was unfamiliar—roots thick as rope, air sweet with wet soil—but it felt like the forest was moving with me, clearing the way as I walked. Thorn followed close behind, quiet for once, his steps careful.
When we reached the river, it was whole again. No silver. No ash. Just water, dark and clean.
And on the other side, shadows moved.
There were three of them at first. Then five. Then dozens. Wolves, their eyes glowing faintly, not with the burn of magic, but with something gentl
