Chapter 11

Aurora adjusted the hood of her cloak, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the fabric. The wind carried the scent of the forest-pine and damp earth-but beneath it lingered the acrid tang of her nerves. Beside her, her mother kept her posture straight,

her face calm, though Aurora could sense the tension in her stiff movements.

They had been walking for hours, each step carrying them closer to the border of the neighboring pack. The land around them had grown wilder, with thick underbrush and ancient trees that seemed to loom over the path like silent sentinels. Aurora's heart raced as they approached the boundary.

The scent of wolves was unmistakable now, an invisible line warning outsiders that this territory was claimed. Aurora hesitated, her instincts screaming caution. This was the moment they would be challenged or rejected. Her mother glanced at her, offering a small nod of encouragement.

her mother

the sound of snapping

one of them growled, his voice deep and rough. His gaze lingered on Aurora

with a calm she didn't entirely feel. "We seek sanctuary," she said, her voice steady. "My mother and I are rogues, and we mean

isn't something

murmured, though it was loud enough for Aurora to catch. The first wolf shot him a sharp look, silencing him. Aurora braced herself as the wolves exchanged glances

open fields and small clusters of houses. The pack's territory was vast, larger than Aurora had imagined. The heart of the pack-a sprawling estate surrounded by training grounds and communal spaces-came into view. It was bustling with activity,

the far end of the room stood a man-tall, broad-shouldered, and commanding, yet with an air of warmth

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