The walk back to the packhouse felt like trudging through wet cement. The echo’s residue clung to my skin like static. Every step carried too much weight. Too much memory. Too much dread about what waking the dormant units actually meant.
By the time the packhouse came into view through the trees, my head was throbbing. My chest too. The twins stayed close the whole way, which would have been comforting if their wolves were not radiating enough tension to give me a migraine.
Inside, the foyer was warm. Too warm. The kind of warmth that made your thoughts swim. I kicked off my boots and barely got one step toward the stairs before Jack spoke.
“We need to increase security.”
His voice was clipped. Hard. Controlled in that scary way he used when he was two seconds from snapping someone li
