The stake was still standing.
It shouldn’t have been. Everyone knew that. But no one had given the order to tear it down, and no one had taken it upon themselves to do it either. It remained at the edge of the clearing, darkened wood driven deep into the earth, rope coiled neatly at its base like an accusation left unanswered.
Three days.
Three days since Ava had run.
The pack spoke of it in low voices, in half-statements and conclusions that pretended certainty.
“She won’t survive out there.”
“She didn’t even have a wolf.”
“If the cold doesn’t take her, hunger will.”
They said it like reassurance. Like repetition could make it true.
Kael stood apart from the others, just beyond the firelight, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The air smelled of ash and pine resin and something
