CHAPTER THIRTY
The wind carries the scent of unrest, sharp and unsettling as it brushes through the trees surrounding our pack's territory. I stand beside Mark, my gaze following his every move as he listens intently to the scout's report.
"Rogues," the scout pants, his chest heaving with urgency. "A pack of them, causing chaos at the Silver Creek boundary."
Mark's jaw tightens, a testament to the storm brewing within him. His black hair falls into his eyes as he turns to face me, the weight of his decision evident in the furrow of his brow. "I have to go," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
My heart lurches at his words, the reality of his departure sinking its claws deep. "But the Pine Pack…" I begin, the protest dying on my lips as I see the resolve etched in his features.
