Marigold POV

By the time we reached the borders of Gregor’s pack, I was so tired I could’ve faceplanted into a rock and called it a nap.

But the moment the first howl echoed through the pines — that deep, thunderous call of home — something in me snapped awake.

The mountain opened up into a sprawling valley, the kind of wild beauty that looked stolen out of a dream. Pine trees dripping with frost, rivers gleaming like glass threads, and in the middle of it all… the pack ...