The forest was unnervingly silent as Evelyn moved through the shadows. The pack had finished its midday training, leaving only the echo of footsteps, shifting leaves, and the distant calls of wolves in the distance. Her body ached from the drills, her mind swirled with confusion, and the memory of Cassandra’s manipulations and Lucien’s anger clung to her like a cold, suffocating weight.
Every instinct told her to stay alert, to remain cautious, yet the pull in her chest — the mate bond — throbbed insistently, urging her forward, warning her, tethering her to Lucien even from afar.
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Suddenly, the air shifted. A chill ran down her spine as she sensed movement — fluid, deliberate, and malevolent. Blue-black shadows slipped between the trees, their presence unnatural, predatory. Her hear
