Tessa

The trees of Nightshade territory rise like dark sentinels ahead of us, their branches knitting together to form a canopy that blocks most of the afternoon sun. Shadows stretch long over the forest floor, but the air is thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and pack magic—familiar, distinct, unwelcoming to outsiders unless invited.

Ben walks beside me, shoulders rigid, alert. Even though he’s been here before, he’s still a foreign wolf on another pack’s land, and Nightshade doesn’t take trespassing lightly.

Be ready, my wolf whispers as our boots crush twigs beneath us. Nightshade watches from the trees.

“I know,” I murmur back, both to Ben and...