The howl echoed again—closer this time, slicing through the forest like a warning wrapped in panic. Rafael's body tensed, every muscle coiled with the instinctive awareness of a predator responding to a threat. The storm above them had darkened fully now, clouds heavy enough to bruise the sky, and the wind carried the unmistakable scent of danger.
Elena didn't need the bond to tell her something was terribly wrong. She felt it in the way Rafael's posture shifted, the way his breathing altered, the way the air between them crackled with an unease that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with duty.
Another howl broke through the trees—shorter, strained.
"A scout," Rafael muttered. "Injured."
He turned to Elena, cupping her face with surprising gentleness given the tension vibrating through him. "Stay behind me. Do not run. Do not break my line of sight."
"I won't," she promised, though her pulse hammered like a drum.
