Aliyah’s POV

The voice in my head wasn’t just a whisper, it was a presence, coiling around my consciousness. My wolf. After all these years of silence, she’d finally spoken.

“Don’t worry, Aliyah, you have me.”

The men’s laughter cut through the woods, grating. There were four of them, all built like bears, their clothes dirty and torn. The one holding Tracy had a scar running down his cheek, and his grip on her arm made her wince.

“Look at this,” Scarface sneered, his eyes ...