When the Ironclaw patrols fanned out toward the ridge where that distant howl had come from, Asher and I stood our ground, every sense wired. But there was no movement, no scent trail, no more sound. The fog swallowed everything whole.
“She’s gone.” the Ironclaw Alpha muttered finally, lowering her weapon. “Vanished like she was never here.”
Asher’s shoulders stayed tense, his eyes scanning the treeline. “She’s not gone. Just hiding.”
I agreed silently. Lydia Keene didn’t retreat, she repositioned.
The Alpha motioned for one of her wolves to escort us through the settlement. “Make it fast.” She warned. “The apothecary’s open, but I can’t risk you bringing your fight here.”
We didn’t argue. Inside the small timber building, the air smelled of herbs, alcohol, and iron. Glass jars lined
