The forest was pitch black as Elara ran between Kael and Ronan. Her legs wobbled with each step, but she refused to slow down. Behind them, the howls of shadow wolves grew louder.
"We need to move faster," Kael whispered, his hand tight around Elara's arm.
"I'm trying," she gasped. The poison might be gone, but her body felt heavy, like she was running through deep water.
Tobias led the way, his eyes glowing green in the darkness. "The skin-walkers' territory starts beyond that ridge," he pointed ahead. "Once we cross it, we'll be in their hunting grounds."
Ronan growled. "Sounds like a bad idea."
"It's our only way to Darian," Elara reminded him. She touched the silver crescent necklace at her throat, drawing strength from its warmth.
The moon peeked through the trees, casting silver light on their path. Suddenly, Tobias froze, raising his hand for silence.
"Listen," he whispered.
They heard it then—not the howling of shadow wolves, but voices. Human voices. Pack members.
