Freya’s pov.

We were a day away from the Ironclaw pack. The forest had begun to shift around us—denser pines, thicker air. The paths grew quieter, the land heavier with energy. I could feel it in my bones, like something ancient was watching us.

The shaman pulled on his reins and raised a hand. "Here," he said.

I looked around. A wide, open field stretched in every direction, encircled by towering trees. The grass was golden under the fading sunlight, with enough space ...