Chapter Fifty-Two
Night had fallen, but the forest was alive with movement. The distant howls of wolves echoed across the valley, each one carrying the unmistakable pulse of the Shadow. Lyra could feel it in her chest, thrumming like a second heartbeat, reaching into her mind, and touching every pack within miles.
She stood at the edge of the ridge, Cain at her side, his muscles coiled like steel springs. The scouts moved behind them, tense and alert. Every wolf that had been freed from the enemy compound was now circling the ridge, their eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight.
Lyra inhaled sharply, sensing the first ripple of movement far beyond the valley. A low hum of instinctive recognition traveled through the bond, and the wolves stirred. There were more out there—packs she had nev
