Liam's pov
The night was deceptively calm, the kind of quiet that always made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I was stationed near the east side of the pack house, keeping an eye on the dense forest line that bordered our territory. My wolf stirred uneasily, a constant warning thrumming in my chest.
It wasn't paranoia. It was instinct.
Something was coming.
The faint rustling of leaves was the only sound that broke the silence, and even that felt unnatural. My mind kept drifting to Pecan. Her presence had been a balm to the pack in ways no one could articulate, but it also made her a target. Too much was connected to her,her lineage, her bond with the pack, and the unknowns that still lingered like shadows around her.
Then it hit.
A howl split the air, guttural and wild, followed by the unmistakable sound of wolves crashing through the underbrush. My blood ran cold.
"Rogues!" I shouted, my voice carrying across the pack house.
