The dripping sound echoed again. Slow. Wet. Heavy. It did not belong in a containment wing. It did not belong in any wing. It made the small hairs on my arms rise and my wolf press lower in my chest, listening.
Theo signaled silently, two fingers raised, three lowered, motioning for the warriors to split and cover the outer hallway. Then he gestured for us to follow him.
We moved in a tight formation. Jack in front of me. Beau glued to my side. Sophie and Theo ahead. The dripping grew louder with every step.
Drip.
Drip.
The air changed. I felt it before I smelled it.
Something metallic and warm. Sharp enough to sting the back of my throat.
Beau’s wolf surged. He bared his teeth and growled, “Blood.”
A deep, visceral sound rolled through him. It echoed off the cold walls and rattled
