POV: Rowan Kingsley
"How do we know you're not one of them?" a different voice called.
"Because they tried to kill me three times last week!" I stood up slowly, hands showing. "Look, I get it. You don't trust rogues. But right now, we might be your only hope."
Three wolves emerged from the trees, bows still drawn. I recognized their pack scent - Silver Creek Pack, one of the smaller areas that had stayed neutral during the recent conflicts.
"You're that rogue who helped expose the corruption in the Northern Packs," the leader said. He was young, maybe twenty-five, with the kind of suspicious eyes that came from too much deception.
"That's me. And you're Beta Jackson Myers, right? Your Alpha sent you to examine the strange scents near your border?"
His eyes widened. "How did you know that?"
"Because I've been tracking the same smells. And what I found is going to scare you."
I reached slowly into my jacket and pulled out a blood-stained piece of fabric. "Recognize this?"
