Chapter 45. The Hunter's Circle

The sky bruised into deep purples as dawn approached, but no one slept.

Selene stood on the ridge above the hollowed camp, her silhouette stark against the skeletal trees. Below her, wounded wolves slept in uneasy shifts, curled close to the faint embers of dying fires. Sentinels paced the perimeter with tireless vigilance, moving through shadow and mist as if they were part of the forest itself.

Alaric joined her without a word. His presence settled beside her like something solid and immovable, a familiar weight she had learned to trust.

Selene tilted her head, listening beyond the obvious sounds of the waking forest. “They’re close,” she said quietly.

Alaric nodded, his hand resting at ease on the hilt of his sword. “They’re circling.”