ORION
Nightshade was struggling.
I stood at the entrance of the medical wing—a converted warehouse on the eastern edge of our territory—watching wolves come and go. Some were sick, others were helping tend to those who'd fallen ill. The fever started three weeks ago with just a handful of cases. Now it was spreading faster than we could contain it.
Mara, our head healer, emerged from one of the rooms, stripping off her gloves. She looked exhausted.
"How many today?" I asked.
"Fifteen new cases." She rubbed her eyes. "We're running low on suppressants. The human medications aren't doing anything anymore."
"Because it's not a human disease," I said.
"No. It's not." She met my gaze. "Alpha, I think this is magical in origin. Something in the territory. I can't treat it without knowing
