The moon still rode high, silver and sharp, and the wolves were running. Inside the veil their paws drummed the ground in steady cadence, lap after lap, a moving wall of muscle and discipline. The pack had found its rhythm, but Ravyn felt how close it was to breaking. Exhaustion threaded under every breath, hidden but waiting. One stumble could cascade.
Her wolf didn’t want to stop. Every nerve thrummed with moonlight, begging her to stay in the run until the sun burned it out of her. She pressed her shoulder against Grayson’s flank for half a stride. He brushed her back, steady, a reminder that control mattered more than hunger for the run. Together they kept the pace sharp but contained, anchoring the line.
At the north stones, Cassian hadn’t moved in hours. He stood rooted, back strai
