The aftermath of the battle left the Blackwood wolves in a state of uneasy quiet. The dawn that followed the Ridge wolves’ retreat painted the forest in muted shades of orange and pink, but the usual serenity of the trees felt overshadowed by the lingering threat of Kane’s return.
Lyla stood at the edge of the camp, her hands wrapped around the straps of her satchel. Her connection to the forest had been stronger during the battle than ever before, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadow had only been a fragment of something far greater.
Eli’s voice broke her thoughts. “You’ve been staring at those trees for hours.”
She turned to find him walking toward her, his shirt torn from the battle but his eyes sharp and clear.
“I was thinking about the shadow,” Lyla said. “What it is
