Chapter 10 · The Scent of Blood

The howl ripped through the ridge behind me. A heavy, guttural sound that made the air vibrate.

I didn't run. Running is loud. Running tells a wolfexactly where to bury his teeth.

I dropped into the mud, dragging a pile of wet leaves over my back. Rain hammered the canopy, ice-cold, soaking through my coat and sweater until I was shivering, bone-deep. I lay flat. Counting breaths.

One wolf. Then a second, answering from the east.

Two. Fourdays in the Border Woods, and I finally knew the difference between a patrol howl and a hunt. That was hunting.

Mywolf should’ve been up. Hackles raised, claws out, ready to snap back. Instead, there was justa hollow, aching void where she used to be. Four days of total silence since Valerius cut the bond. Sincehe tore it out of me in front of three hundred witnesses.

I pressed my palm into the mud.My own heartbeat drummed against the ground.

Then, the burn started.

Between my shoulder blades—right where he’d carved the mark—it pulsed. Hot. Like someone holding a glowing coal against my spine.