s of pine, Ivy watched the signal bars on her phone drop until they vanished completely. The cabin wasn't the cozy, polished place Ivy had pictured. It was gray wood and stone, tucke

woods ahead of her looked deeper than they should. The shadows between the trunks were a shade too dark, and the wind seemed to die down completely as she looked toward a massive rock formation a few hundred yards away. High above on that ridge, Silas crouched. He wasn't supposed to be this close to the human boundary. His father-the Alpha-had been clear: The humans are expanding. Stay hidden. Stay in the shadows of the Old Way. But Silas was tired of the Old Way. He was tired of the damp caves and the endless rules. He had spent the last week sneaking into the outskirts of the nearest town, watching people through windows. He liked the way they laughed, the way they moved without the constant weight of "the pack" on their shoulders. He felt the itch in his skin-the need to change. He had been in his human skin for too long today, and his bones felt tight. He didn't see the girl at first. He was too focused on the release. He stepped behind a thicket of hemlocks and let his breath out. It wasn't like the movies Ivy had seen; there was no screaming. It was a fluid, sickeningly fast crackl