For three days, Kael's scouts carried reports from the Winter Pack.
On the first day, Derrick called the failing barrier a harmless fluctuation. He told the council I was sulking and would return before the first deep frost. By then, he said, I would be grateful for his forgiveness.
On the second day, Frost-fade settled into the pack's weakest wolves. The chill reached the soul first and left blue veins beneath the skin. Derrick blamed Shadow Forest saboteurs, doubled every patrol, and posted guards along a barrier they could no longer repair.
At dawn on the fourth day, cracks opened across the dome that had protected the pack for centuries. Pups began coughing ice into their blankets.
That was when Derrick rode to Kael's fortress.
I watched his party from the parapet. Only a few loya
