The words hit like a physical blow.
“Chaos,” she continues. “Absolute chaos. Wolves turned on each other. Bloodlines fractured. The red wolves were blamed for it.”
My stomach tightens.
“They were run out of the territory,” she finishes softly. “Or they were killed.”
The room feels smaller suddenly, and the red light from the orb flares brighter for a moment as if reacting to the truth being spoken aloud.
“So they buried it,” Axel says quietly. “The history.”
“They erased it where they could,” Amy corrects gently. “But not all of it.”
The hum deepens beneath our feet, and before I can ask another question the border alarms begin to wail.
The sound slices through the house sharp and urgent, and the shift in the air is immediate as Axel and Atticus snap into motion.
A mind link slams
