The forest swallowed us whole as we moved deeper into the northern woods, the moonlight thinning until it barely reached the forest floor. Smoke clung to the air, thick and suffocating, and every breath scraped my throat raw. Elias's weight grew heavier in my arms, but I refused to slow down. He'd carried me through worse when we were pups. I owed him this much.
Rylan walked ahead of us, silent but impossibly aware. Every few steps, he paused, sniffed the air, then shifted direction with the precision of a predator who knew these woods better than his own heartbeat. His movements were fluid, controlled, and far too graceful for someone built like a weapon.
I hated that I noticed.
"You're slowing," he said without turning.
"I'm carrying someone," I snapped. "What's your excuse?"
A low hum of amusement rumbled from him. "If you want, I can—"
"You're not touching him."
He didn't argue. That surprised me more than anything.
We continued in tense silence. The deeper we went, the stronger the scent of my pack became—fear, exhaustion, blood—but underneath it was something else. Something wrong. A strange metallic scent that made my skin crawl.
Rylan stiffened. "Stop."
I froze instantly, instincts reacting before my mind caught up. "What is it?"
He crouched low, fingers brushing the dirt. When he stood, his expression was grim.
"Tracks," he said. "Fresh ones."
"Rogues?"
"No." His eyes darkened. "Something worse."
My stomach twisted. "What's worse than rogues?"
He hesitated. "Controlled rogues."
I blinked. "That's impossible. Rogues don't follow orders."
"These do."
"How do you know?"
His jaw tightened. "Because I've seen them before."
I opened my mouth to demand answers, but a rustle in the bushes cut me off. Rylan moved instantly, stepping in front of me, claws out, body tense.
"Stay behind me," he growled.
I bristled. "I can fight."
"Not while you're carrying him."
Before I could argue, a figure stumbled out of the shadows—one of our warriors, Mira. Her arm was slashed open, blood dripping down her side.
"Lyra!" she gasped when she saw me. "Thank the moon—you're alive!"
I rushed to her side. "Where's the Alpha? Where's everyone?"
She shook her head, trembling. "We were ambushed. Not by Bloodfang—by something else. Their eyes were black. Like shadows."
Rylan muttered a curse under his breath.
Mira's gaze snapped to him. "Why is he here?"
"He's… helping," I said reluctantly.
She stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Helping? He's the enemy!"
"I know," I said. "But whatever attacked us—it's not from his pack."
Rylan stepped forward. "Your Alpha is alive. Injured, but alive. He's leading the survivors to the northern ridge."
Mira's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
"I tracked them," he said simply.
She looked at me, uncertain. "Lyra… can we trust him?"
I swallowed hard. "No. But we don't have a choice."
Rylan didn't react to the insult. He just turned toward the ridge.
"Follow me," he said. "Before the controlled rogues circle back."
Mira shivered. "Controlled…?"
"Later," I said. "We need to move."
We followed Rylan through the trees, the air growing colder as we climbed. Elias groaned in my arms, and I tightened my grip.
"Stay with me," I whispered.
Rylan glanced back. "He needs a healer soon."
"I know."
"We're close."
"How close?"
He hesitated. "Close enough that your pack will smell me before they see you."
Mira stiffened. "They'll attack him on sight."
"I'm aware," he said calmly.
"Then why are you still here?" she demanded.
He looked at me.
Just me.
"Because she is."
My breath caught.
The bond pulsed.
And for the first time, I didn't know if I hated it… or feared how much I didn't.