Geared up and ready, we crouch in the shadows of the forest, hidden and waiting for the humans to make their move. Baylee’s wolves are scattered among us, silent and still, like they’ve been preparing for this fight far longer than we have.
The air hangs heavy with tension. Then I hear it—crack—the crunch of a boot against dry leaves. Another step. Then another. The sound grows into a chorus of feet trampling through the underbrush, and my heart kicks into overdrive as nerves finally catch up.
They don’t know we’re here. Laughter drifts through the trees, casual and careless.
We’re just beyond our territory. They think we won’t cross the boundary—but this isn’t about rogues anymore. This is war.
Just as predicted, they stroll into the center of the clearing, completely unaware that we’
