Kael stood at the edge of the trees, rain soaking through his cloak, droplets streaking his hair and sliding down his face. The storm had turned the forest into a blur of gray and green, but his senses were sharper than ever, honed by years of living with the pack. Something was wrong. He could feel it in every nerve, every heartbeat.
Rowan had begged him to return inside, to let the warmth of the lodge chase away the storm and the tension gnawing at him. Rina had hovered nearby too, pretending her concern wasn’t obvious. But none of that mattered. Something—or someone—was calling to him, drawing him deeper into the forest, and he could not ignore it.
Without hesitation, Kael moved. His boots sank into the soaked earth, branches snapping underfoot, rain drumming against his cloak and ski
