Chapter 8: A Clandestine Collision

The neutral territory was a lawless, sprawling scar between the domains of rival packs. I kept to the shadows, my hood pulled low, the Silvervein Root a dwindling, bitter necessity in my pouch. The Bond was a constant, gnawing hunger in my veins, a compass needle spinning wildly the closer I got to my destination: a squalid outpost known as the Crossroads, a den of thieves, informants, and those who had fallen through the cracks of wolf society. It was the only place I might find answers without...