They arrived at dusk, because of course they did.
Vampires had a flair for the dramatic that made even the most theatrical Alpha look understated by comparison. They didn't just arrive — they materialized, appearing at Silver Fang's eastern border just as the sun dipped below the tree line and the forest exhaled the last of its golden light into the purple bruise of twilight. Six figures, emerging from the shadows between the ancient pines with the fluid, predatory grace of beings who had spent centuries perfecting the art of making an entrance and considered modesty a character flaw.
The patrol wolves saw them first — or rather, smelled them first, because vampire scent was distinctive in a way that no wolf ever forgot once they'd encountered it. Cold. Sweet. Like winter roses blooming
