Kael crouched low, his breath steady, his heart pounding in his chest. The scent of Marcus's wolves was thick in the air, growing stronger as he led his pack closer to the heart of the camp. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the ground, but Kael's senses were sharp, honed to the danger that surrounded him.
Garren moved silently beside him, his gaze sharp and focused as they crept through the underbrush. They had taken out the guards quickly, without raising any alarms, but Kael knew their advantage wouldn't last long. Once Marcus realized they were inside the camp, chaos would erupt.
Lyra.
Her name was a drumbeat in his mind, driving him forward with every step. He could feel her presence, close but still out of reach, and the thought of her alone in Marcus's hands made his blood boil.
