They left before dawn.

Four wolves. Marina, Silvain, Lyra, and a Bloodfang fighter named Cort who moved through forest the way water moved through rock, finding gaps without looking for them. Lyra had insisted on coming and Silvain had not argued, which told Marina more about his current state of mind than anything he had said at the boundary.

They traveled fast and low, no shifting, keeping human form because human scent was harder to track at speed in occupied territory where Obsidian's wolves were calibrated to detect pack magic signatures.

Marina ran point.

Her shadow magic stayed flat and internal, not pushed outward where it could be read, just...