Remo’s POV
The night didn’t feel like night.
It was too still—too silent. Even the wind that usually ran wild through the mountains held its breath.
I stood on the edge of the ridge overlooking the pack’s borders, my wolf pacing inside me like something caged. The air stank of ash and coming rain, but beneath that—something worse. Magic. It slithered through the trees, subtle and patient, like it knew we were waiting.
Christian’s voice broke the silence behind me. “You feel that, don’t you?”
I didn’t turn. “I’ve felt it for hours.”
“Then why the hell are we still standing here like idiots?” Maddox muttered, his low growl vibrating in the night. “Let me go down there and rip whatever’s crawling out of that forest apart.”
A humorless smirk tugged at my mouth. “You’d rip a tree apart
