CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT
My heart thumps erratically, each beat echoing the chaos that unfolded only moments ago. The forest, usually a sanctuary of serenity, now feels like a violated stronghold as my packmates move with hurried efficiency through the underbrush, erasing signs of the rogue's intrusion.
With every snapped twig or rustle of leaves, my senses sharpen, but the danger has passed—for now. Our territory has been defended, but at a cost. My eyes scan the area, searching for Silas. He is not hard to find; even wounded, his presence commands attention. His brown hair, normally wild and untamed, now clings to his forehead, matted with sweat and a streak of blood that drips down his temple.
"Careful," I murmur as I approach him, instinctively reaching out to steady him when he sways s
