The walk back to the packhouse was quiet in the way storms were quiet before breaking.
Rowan moved at the front, his posture rigid, blood long since cleaned from his hands but not from his thoughts. Dustin flanked his right, Serena his left, with two warriors trailing just behind. Holly walked between Lila and Mira, Rowan’s coat wrapped firmly around her shoulders, his hand never straying far from her back.
The snow crunched beneath their boots.
They could feel it before they saw it.
The pack was awake.
Lights glowed through the windows of the packhouse, wolves and humans alike gathered in clusters just outside, murmurs rippling through the cold air like distant thunder. As soon as Rowan came into view, heads lifted. Conversations stuttered—but did not stop.
“Did you hear—”
“—three
