He didn’t smile. He just moved to the window and peered out. Dawn was an angry smear of gray at the horizon. The rain had given us temporary reprieve; the mud would be worse. But we had more than shelter now—we had timing, and we had an edge: Xander had taken out a Black Fang staging camp. We weren’t walking into a welcoming committee.

Before we left, Beta Xander came over and handed me a small, sealed piece of paper. “Zach gave this to me,” he said. “If things go south, follow ...