The silence was thick, almost tangible, as if the very air had learned to hold its breath.
Zack and I moved without speaking, barely glancing at each other, but connected by that old instinctive current that had always saved us: the shared hunt. Every step we took was measured, precise. Every breath, controlled. My wolf pulsed just under my skin, vibrating with anticipation.
Lilith was close. We knew it.
We could smell her, even though she tried to hide. Her scent was like rain on hot metal: electric, wild, impossible to erase. There were small physical traces too: a recent brush along a rusted railing, a disturbed puddle, an almost imperceptible mark in the dust on the floor.
Zack walked slightly ahead, his silhouette carved against the darkness, broken only by the dying glow of the s
