A loud howl catches my attention, and I stop punching the sandbag.
That's Mae—Maisie's wolf's howl. And it's no ordinary howl; she is calling for help.
No, Lyra.
I follow the sound of the howl to the main gate and bolt towards it. Mason and Rowan follow right after me, followed by all the pack members.
I stop short in my tracks once I see the scene in front of me. Mae is silently weeping while licking Lyra's hands and howling occasionally.
"Lyra!" I shout before I run to her.
There are cut marks on her arms and on the side of her legs, causing the areas to bleed. Whatever cut her has cut her skin through the warm clothes; it must have been extremely sharp.
My jaw ticks, and I curl my fingers. Whoever is responsible for this, he better count his days.
I pick Lyra up in my arms and take her inside the house. Mae follows behind, whimpering and whining quietly. Poor thing, she's probably traumatized.
