Brock Silver POV
"Get back!" I lunged forward, swinging a burning branch at the bone-faced wolves circling us.
The masked creatures hissed and retreated into the darkness, their red eyes glowing like embers. But they didn't leave. They stayed just beyond the firelight, watching. Waiting.
"Why aren't they attacking?" Lily whispered behind me.
I kept the flaming branch raised, my wounded ankle throbbing with each movement. "I don't know. But I'm not whining."
The lead wolf with Emma's bloody band around its neck tilted its skull-masked head. "We can wait, Alpha son. The storm traps you here with us. When your fire dies, the choice will be made."
Then, like smoke, they melted back into the darkness of the cave. Gone, but not really gone. I could still smell their wild scent and hear the soft click of claws on stone somewhere in the dark.
"Are they really gone?" Lily asked.
