CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The musky scent of unease clings to the air, thick as the fog that rolls over the forest floor. I stand before the pack, my heart hammering in my chest like a frantic bird trapped within a cage. Their eyes, sharp and assessing, cut through me as if I am made of nothing more than shadows and whispers.
"Tell us again, Rose," demands Markus, his voice low and dangerous. "What exactly did you see in your premonition?"
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "I saw darkness descending on the pack. An unknown threat that I can't quite grasp, but it's coming, and it's powerful." The words tumble out, each one heavier with the weight of truth. But their skepticism is a palpable force, pressing down on me with scorn and disbelief.
"Darkness?" scoffs Joe, his lip curled in d
