The wolves saw him before they felt him.
That was the first mistake.
Nightfall’s outer forest stretched for miles beyond the pack territory, thick with towering pines and jagged cliffs where winter winds howled like restless spirits. It was land few humans dared enter.
But wolves ruled here.
Three warriors ran patrol beneath the trees, their massive forms slicing through the undergrowth with practiced silence.
Grey fur flashed between shadows.
Sharp ears twitched.
Noses lifted to the wind.
Then the youngest wolf slowed.
Something was wrong.
He shifted mid-stride, bones cracking as his human form replaced fur and claws.
“Do you smell that?” Jarek asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
The other two wolves shifted beside him.
Both older.
Both hardened by years of battle.
One sniff
