The hunger's answer came three long days later.
It started with the howls — long, mournful sounds that rose from the old Shadow Fang lands at dusk and continued through the night. Not wolf howls. Something twisted. Wrong. A chorus of voices that had been silenced and were now being forced to sing.
By morning, the scouts reported movement.
"Bodies," Ryder said. His face was grey, the color of ash, and for the first time since Sera had known him, his hands were shaking. "The wolves that died in the compound. The children who didn't survive the experiments. The villagers from Bloodcrest. They're digging themselves out of the ground. Pulling themselves up through the soil like they're being called."
Sera's stomach turned. She thought of the forty-three dead from Bloodcrest. The children wh
