Ezekiel darts into a cave I hadn’t noticed at first. If he thinks he’s shaking me off that easily, he’s dead wrong. My paws thunder against stone as I follow, slowing to a fast trot once the shadows swallow me. It’s darker than I expected—cool, damp, the scent of moss and earth thick in my nose.
I press forward, senses straining for movement, for the brush of fur or sound of paws. Nothing. By the time I reach the back of the cave, all I find is a solid wall of rock.
Where did he go?
I lower my head and sniff like I’ve seen the others do, but the only scent I pick up is stone and damp air. No Ezekiel.
“Ezekiel?” I call through the bond, my voice soft but trembling.
Silence.
A knot tightens in my chest. How does this mind-link work? Do we have to be near each other? Did he cut me off?
