The gates of Winter Storm Pack territory had never looked so imposing.

I sat in the passenger seat of Tristan's vehicle with Luna asleep in my arms, her tiny body warm and precious against my chest. Zara was in the car seat behind us, making small sounds in her sleep. My heart pounded as we approached, uncertainty mixing with determination in equal measures.

This was our home. Our pack. The place where everything had gone so wrong, where I'd been accused and tortured and nearly executed.

But ...