CHAPTER 33:
The sun rose high and bright, but it brought no warmth. The air remained cold and tight, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. We gathered at dawn near the spot where the first tent had stood empty, the whole core group plus Mara, Torin, and the other pack leaders. No one spoke at first. We just stood there, staring at the flattened grass, the faint impression of a child’s doll half-buried in the dirt, the silence that still clung to the ground like frost.
“They did not vanish into thin air,” Knox said, breaking the quiet, his voice sharp and practical. “Whatever they are, wherever they took them—they left a trail. We just have to find it.”
“Whisperers do not leave footprints,” Elara said, her expression grim. “They do not breathe the same air we do. They do not touch
