He was moving impressively fast for someone in snowshoes—the Searchers must have trained rigorously for winter combat.

“Come on,” Ethan said, heading in Connor’s direction.

When we reached him, he bent over, resting his hands on his thighs, gasping for breath.

“He’s dead,” Connor said between gasps. “Grant’s dead. His throat was torn out.”

Having been raised to create violence, I’d never thought death would unnerve me. But the image of awkward and kind Mr. Selby, lying in a pool of blood and mangled flesh, made me shudder.

“Damn.” Ethan bowed his head.

Lydia closed her eyes. “That’s a shame. And it means we need to get out of here. If the wolves are still hunting, they won’t have any trouble tracking us . . . or sniffing out Adne.”

Connor nodded but looked at me. “Did you find your packmates?”

“No,” I said, still thrown by the news of Mr. Selby’s sudden demise. “And I just realized that—”

The howl swallowed my words. The second and third howls raised the hair on the back of my neck.

“That’s not my pack,” I whispered.

“They know we’re here,” Ethan said. “Let’s move.”

“Stay close,” Lydia said to me, taking up the lead once more.

We started back, but Lydia took us on a zigzagging path unlike the straight line we’d traversed on our way out. She broke new trail, heading in Adne’s direction while avoiding the path we’d created on our trek out. In wolf form I doubled back, retracing our steps, constantly testing the air, listening for any sign of the wolves that had howled, trying to discern whether they were tracking us. But the approach of dusk brought an unsettling silence with it, and I remembered how snow swallowed sound as well as scent. A gust of wind lifted the top layer of snow, washing our faces in icy crystals, blowing in the direction the howls had come from.

Not good. We were upwind of the Guardians. They’d be able to smell us, but I wouldn’t catch their scent until they were almost on us.

The howls rose again, much closer.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here without a fight,” Ethan said.

“Just keep running.” Lydia’s breath came out in white puffs.

We were closing in on the place we’d left Adne when a shadow dropped down from a tree branch above us.

Lydia wheeled, dagger in her hand.

“It’s me!” Adne held up her arms.

“What were you doing up in a tree?” Ethan asked, peering into the branches.

“Hiding.” Adne brushed snow off her legs. “I heard the howls and thought I’d better play it safe.”

“Good call,” Connor said, clearly relieved to seeher unharmed.

“What happened?” she asked.

“They killed Grant,” Connor said.

Adne paled. “Oh no.”

My ears flicked up, drawn to new sounds in the woods behind us. The scrape of paws on ice. I didn’t want to change forms, so I barked at the Searchers. It was enough.

Ethan readied his crossbow. “Adne, open a door.”

I stalked forward, scanning the forest. A flicker of movement appeared. A russet wolf slipped between the trees. My heart leapt. It was a Nightshade. Sasha—Fey’s mother and one of my mother’s patrol mates. I dashed toward her.

“Calla, no!” Lydia called, but I kept running.

I barked again, this time calling to Sasha. Her form flashed between two tree trunks and I sent a thought chasing after her.

Sasha! Sasha, wait!

The red wolf wheeled, heading toward me. She was running at full speed, not slowing at all as she drew closer, snarling.

Welcome home, Calla.

My mind reeled as her body crashed into mine and we rolled through the snow. I twisted away, jumping to the side as her jaws snapped at my shoulder.

Stop! What are you doing?

She didn’t answer but lunged at me again, her eyes filled with bloodlust.

My instincts kicked in and I struck back, snarling. My teeth sank into her chest, but the taste of pack blood in my mouth shook me to the core. Nothing about this fight felt natural. I was attacking one of my own, the mother of my packmate. It went against everything I’d ever known.

I tried to reach her again.

Please, Sasha. I’m here to help you.

I barely escaped her next strike.

Foolish girl.

The cold truth settled under my fur. Sasha was trying to kill me and if I wanted to survive, I would have to kill her. I was desperate to find another way out of this disaster.

This time when Sasha lunged, I rolled to the side, pivoting in the snow and clamping my jaws onto her hamstring. She squealed when my teeth cut through her tendons. I tore at the muscle and she yelped again, twisting and snapping futilely at me. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be able to give chase, I released her leg and dashed back toward the Searchers. I could see the shimmering portal through the trees. But I heard the shouts of battle as well. I pushed harder, picking up speed.

“Calla!” Adne waved. I made a beeline for her. She was only ten feet away when something hard and heavy slammed into me. I rolled over and over, breath forced out of my lungs. On unsteady limbs I struggled to my feet and turned to face my attacker.

The huge wolf’s fur was mottled gray and brown. He stared at me, snarling.

I thought my heart had stopped as my eyes locked with those of Emile Laroche.

The Bane alpha had been hunting us.