"We leave at first light," Silvain said. "Anyone not ready moves anyway."

Nobody argued. That was how far they had come in two days, from four packs that couldn't share a fire to two hundred and forty wolves who understood that argument was a luxury they couldn't afford anymore.

Marina was ready an hour before first light.

She stood at the eastern edge of camp and pushed her shadow magic out in a slow careful sweep, the way she'd been doing every two hours through the night. Obsidian's scouts were still out there, two miles, moving in that patient tightening circle. They hadn't closed in yet.

She didn't know why....