(Kaelan’s POV)
Inside, the view shifted. The dirt road widened, lit by oil lamps hanging from wooden posts. Wooden houses lined up like parts of a living fortress: training huts, armories, meeting halls—laid out neatly, yet blending with the forest instead of opposing it. A few packmates passed by, bowing their heads in respect once they recognized who was walking through. Their scent—oil, earth, fur—gripped my nose like home.
My car rolled into an open field in the middle of the camp, the spot where “unusual vehicles” were usually parked. Human cars were allowed here, but they weren’t left unattended. A closed garage stood off to the side, and a few warriors drove my car inside to keep it safe.
“We’ll lock it up, and the evening patrol will guard it. No one touches it without your perm
