The howl returned. This time it was shorter. Sharper. The sound cut through the forest like a blade before fading into the quiet morning air.
My wolf reacted instantly. Every instinct inside me rose to attention.
That wasn't a rogue howl.
Rogues were reckless creatures. Loud. Chaotic. They howled to intimidate or to challenge.
This had been something else. Controlled. Purposeful.
Beside me, Rowan stood perfectly still at the edge of the ridge overlooking the valley. The golden morning light filtered through the tall trees behind him, outlining the hard lines of his shoulders.
His entire posture had changed. Not tense. Focused. Dangerously aware.
Below us, several wolves in the clearing had stopped their morning work.
Heads lifted.
Bodies turned toward the northern forest. They had heard it too.
"That's not one of yours," I said quietly.
Rowan shook his head once.
"No."
The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine needles across the ridge.
Underneath it lingered another scent.
Faint. Unfamiliar.
"How close?" I asked.
Rowan didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the distant tree line.
"Closer than I like."
Then he turned.
"Come on."
We moved quickly down the slope toward the clearing.
Several wolves had already gathered near the training grounds by the time we reached the bottom. The tall wolf who had questioned me earlier stepped forward immediately.
"You heard it."
"Yes," Rowan replied.
"North ridge?"
"That would be my guess."
The wolf frowned.
"That's barely an hour from here."
Rowan nodded.
"Exactly."
The braided woman joined them, wiping sweat from her hands.
"Rogues?" she asked.
Rowan shook his head.
"No."
"Then who?"
Rowan's eyes moved slowly across the gathered wolves.
"Let's find out."
He gestured toward three of them.
"You. You. And you."
Three wolves stepped forward immediately. The tall wolf. The braided woman. And a younger male who carried himself with quiet discipline.
Their eyes flicked toward me.
Rowan noticed.
"She stays with me."
A brief silence followed. Not resistance. Just surprise. But none of them questioned the decision.
Rowan turned toward the forest.
"We move now."
The deeper we went into the trees, the quieter the forest became. Even the birds had fallen silent. My wolf remained alert, every sense stretched thin.
Something was wrong. I could feel it.
After twenty minutes of fast walking, Rowan slowed. Then he raised a hand.
Everyone stopped.
He crouched beside a patch of damp soil beneath a fallen log.
"Tracks," the younger wolf murmured.
I stepped closer. Large paw prints marked the ground. Fresh. Very fresh.
The tall wolf crouched beside Rowan.
"Rogue?"
Rowan shook his head slowly.
"No."
Rogues moved like storms through the forest. Wild. Unpredictable. These tracks were different. Controlled. Organized.
The braided woman leaned closer.
"Pack scouts."
"Looks like it," Rowan said.
"How many?"
"Hard to tell."
I crouched beside them, studying the prints. My wolf stirred faintly.
Something about the pattern bothered me.
"These wolves aren't just passing through," I said.
Four heads turned toward me. The younger wolf frowned.
"What do you mean?"
I pointed toward the ground.
"Look at the spacing."
They followed the line of tracks through the brush.
"They're circling," I continued.
"Measuring the territory."
The younger wolf's eyes widened slightly.
"…She's right."
The braided woman muttered under her breath.
"That's not good."
No. It wasn't.
Because wolves only mapped territory when they were considering taking it.
Rowan stood slowly. His expression had grown colder.
"Which pack?" the tall wolf asked.
Rowan shook his head.
"Not enough scent yet."
Then the younger wolf stiffened suddenly.
"Wait."
Everyone froze. Something moved between the trees ahead. Fast. Silent.
Rowan stepped forward instantly.
"Elara, stay behind me."
I obeyed. A dark wolf burst through the brush. Its fur was streaked with dirt and pine needles, its chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
But instead of attacking— The wolf skidded to a stop.
A second later it shifted into human form. A scout. The man dropped to one knee.
"Alpha."
Rowan's voice remained calm.
"You're early."
The scout looked exhausted.
"We found them."
Rowan's gaze sharpened.
"How many?"
"At least six."
The wolves around me stiffened. Six scouts meant something larger behind them.
"How far?" Rowan asked.
"Two hours north."
The tall wolf exhaled slowly.
"That's a full scouting line."
"Yes."
The braided woman crossed her arms.
"Which pack?"
The scout hesitated. Just for a second. Then he answered.
"Blackthorn."
The world seemed to tilt slightly beneath my feet. Blackthorn. My pack. My heart slammed against my ribs.
The tall wolf looked toward Rowan.
"That's… unexpected."
Rowan's expression remained unreadable. But his eyes moved toward me.
Slowly. Carefully. As if measuring my reaction.
"Are they advancing?" Rowan asked the scout.
The man shook his head.
"Not yet."
"Then why are they here?"
The scout hesitated again.
"They're looking for someone."
The forest seemed to grow colder. Rowan's gaze shifted back to me.
I felt it immediately.
Every wolf in the clearing suddenly understood something. Or suspected it.
My pulse quickened. Because there was only one reason Kael's scouts would be this far from their territory.
Only one reason they would search Rowan's borders.
I crossed my arms slowly. Trying to keep my voice steady.
"Well," I said.
"Looks like my past just caught up with me."