The chamber reeked of fear.

Not the sharp, adrenaline-laced tang of battle. No this was something heavier. The sour stink of prey that already knows it’s lost.

And I drank it in.

Every heartbeat hammered in my ears, every lungful of air fed the hunger snarling in my gut. The pack circled the edges of the lodge, their wolves pushing against skin, caught between the instinct to bow and the instinct to flee.

I crouched low, claws carving into the stone floor, fire curling off my fur in ...