Alex
The kitchen smelled like blueberry pancakes and sizzling bacon, and my stomach was making noises loud enough to wake up a hibernating bear, but I didn't move. One of the pack cooks had tried to put a plate in front of me ten minutes ago, but I just pushed it away.
"We aren't eating," I told her, my voice as serious as Dad’s when he was giving Alpha orders.
"Yeah," Joy added, sitting next to me on the porch steps, her chin resting on her knees. "We're waiting for our parents."
I didn't need binoculars to see them. Even from the far edge of the clearing, where the mist was still hugging the trees like a fuzzy blanket, I could see every leaf twitch. My eyes were better than any camera. I saw the movement first—a flash of white that looked like a ghost, and a patch of midnight black t
