We changed direction before the sun fully rose.
Not east.
Not toward the hunters.
Away.
The moment I chose it, I felt the bond respond—not with resistance or urgency, but with something like relief. Threads loosened, reweaving themselves around a quieter route. This wasn’t retreat. It was misdirection. A deliberate step sideways, into a space they wouldn’t expect us to occupy.
Rachel noticed almost immediately.
“You’re pulling us off the line,” she said, voice low, sharp.
“Yes,” I replied. “Because they expect us to chase.”
Gina adjusted the strap across her shoulder, wincing slightly. “And instead we… what? Wander?”
I shook my head. “We listen.”
Maera’s wolves angled with us without question, movements fluid, ears flicking not with tension but awareness. They weren’t hunting. Th
