The moment Ronan left me at the packhouse steps, something inside me stayed thrumming. Like a heartbeat under my heartbeat. Like my wolf was pacing in circles, claws dragging across the inside of my ribs.
I pushed open the packhouse door, snow melting into droplets on my jacket. The entry hall felt warm, too warm. My skin prickled with heat, and my senses stretched outward like I could hear every whisper in every room.
I breathed in slowly.
And everything smelled sharper.
Pine. Smoke. Wolves. Emotions.
My hands shook.
“What is happening to me,” I whispered to myself.
My wolf pressed forward, not frantic this time, but powerful. Sure. A low rumble vibrated through me, so faint I was not sure if it was real or just my imagination.
I stepped into the hall, and that was when two warrio
