I didn’t sleep. Not really. I kept replaying the scent, the scorch mark, the heat still in the ground. By the time the sun came up, I was already dressed and outside, waiting for the people I actually trusted.
We met behind one of the old training buildings. Nobody went there anymore, which made it perfect. Jason showed up first, yawning like he didn’t just stay out celebrating half the night. Two others followed, wolves I knew wouldn’t run their mouths.
“Why the early meeting?” Jason muttered. “You look like you’re about to bury someone.”
“Maybe I am,” I said.
That woke them up.
I didn’t waste time. I told them exactly what I saw last night—the scorch, the smoke, the smell of burnt fur and ozone. The way the air felt wrong, the same way it did near the body from two nights ago.
As I
