ALARIC

The moment Beta Theodore said she was gone, I knew she wouldn’t be found inside the pack walls.

I didn’t ask how long. I didn’t ask who helped her. I turned and left.

The forest was already awake, moonrise close, the air sharp with warning. Her scent was weak but present—fear, blood, and desperation tangled together.

She hadn’t planned this escape. She was running from something, not toward freedom.

I followed her scent through the woods.

Halfway through the trees, a folded paper drifted down in front of me. I caught it without slowing.

It’s Blank.

I burned it with the flame.

“She turned east. She is not alone.”...