The scream did not come from someone’s mouth. It ripped through the mind link with such force that every wolf in the packhouse staggered at the same time. A psychic blast. Raw. Terrified. Choking.
It vibrated against my skull and snapped me out of the fragile calm I had managed to hold onto after the husk incident.
Jack stiffened beside me, his hand gripping my arm instantly.
Third floor. Move.
Beau’s voice hit the link right after, rough with urgency.
I am on patrol route two. I will intercept from the north stairwell.
Jack dragged me into motion, and I did not fight him. We bolted down the hall and up the first flight of stairs, our footsteps pounding against the wood, echoing through the nearly silent packhouse. Wolves rushed past us, fur bristling, claws scraping the floor as the
