The forest pressed heavily against Reule’s senses. Damp moss, old stone, the distant crackle of broken twigs under careless feet. He inhaled sharply. Beneath the noise and the scents, he caught a faint Wren's smell. He jerked his chin toward Landon, who crouched a few yards away, weapons ready.

“She’s close,” Reule growled.

Landon nodded once.

“Trail cuts east, near the ruins.”

Reule didn’t waste his breath replying. His wolf clawed at his skin, frantic ...