CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
The forest whispers secrets of the missing, its shadows heavy with unanswered questions. Four nights have passed since Tristan’s laughter faded into a silence that claws at my insides. We’ve combed through the underbrush, traced and retraced our paths, but the earth keeps its lips sealed on the whereabouts of the Shadow Tail Gamma.
A chill seeps through my bones as I stand on the damp soil, the musty scent of moss and pine needles mingling in the air. The Silver Paws wolves huddle around me, their eyes flickering like the fire I summon – full of fear, anger, uncertainty. I clench my fists to stop the flames that threaten to betray my calm exterior.
"Spread out! He can't have vanished into thin air," I command, my voice echoing through the trees. The rustling leaves
