Damian's POV
The guest room in Ronan's pack house smelled of pine and unfamiliar wolves.
I lay propped against the headboard, my ribs bound tight, every breath a dull blade sliding between them. The healers said I was lucky. I didn't feel lucky. I felt like a caged animal.
My eyes kept dragging back to the window, to the dark sky above the tree line. Ronan had left hours ago.
So where the hell were they?
*They should be here by now,* I told my wolf, for what had to be the tenth time. *He made contact at midnight. Even if she hesitated—*
*You've counted the minutes twice over,*the wolf said. *Counting them a third time won't spin the rotors faster.*
I shoved off the blankets and made it to the window, ribs snarling in protest. Nothing but black forest and stars.
*W
