Zoe POV

*****

I'm looking at the wolves encircling us, and something finally clicks into place.

Their faces. I've been reading them wrong this whole time — watching for the specific tension of a group about to move, and it isn't there. What's there instead is patience. The settled, unhurried patience of people waiting for a clock to run down. Not our clock. Something else entirely.

The cold in my chest deepens into something worse.

'Iris.' I say her name ...