The following morning dawned clear, sunlight spilling like gold through the trees that bordered the path leading to the pack house. Calvin and Roselyn walked side by side, the quiet morning broken only by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the distant murmur of pack members starting their day. For once, things felt almost peaceful.
But that peace shattered in an instant.
From the far end of the courtyard, two men strode toward them with rigid shoulders and stormy faces. Their eyes burned with barely contained fury, their movements sharp and deliberate. The shift in the air was immediate—heavy, tense, charged.
Roselyn’s steps faltered as the men drew closer. She could feel the anger radiating from them, a dark pulse that set her wolf on edge. Calvin noticed too. Withou
