FREYA
The forest was alive with movement—the pounding of paws, the rhythm of breathing wolves, the rustle of leaves as bodies cut through the night. The moon above was not yet full, but it was close enough to paint the world in silver. Every sound was sharper, every scent stronger. My heart was racing, not entirely from fear, but from the surge of adrenaline—the wildness of the run.
I had been told the Trial Run was a test of unity, a way for the pack to move as one—to show strength and control. But as soon as we’d entered the woods, I could tell that unity was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
The formation broke quickly. Wolves split off into smaller clusters, darting between trees and across ridges. I could still hear Maya’s howl somewhere behind me—clear and fierce—but even that soun
