CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The pungent scent of pine and earth fills my nostrils as I pace the edge of the clearing, my nerves a live wire beneath my skin. The Rogue pack's presence has been like a dark cloud over us for weeks, and the tension in the air is so thick it could be cut with a claw. But today, there's a different charge in the atmosphere—one of cautious hope.
"Looks like we can breathe a little easier," Mark says, his voice breaking the silence. His black hair falls into his eyes as he looks at me, brown eyes reflecting the flicker of relief that dances through the Pine Pack. He’s always so composed, but I can see the weight lifting off his shoulders.
I nod, leaning back against a tree. "Moving further south, huh? That's good news."
"Best we've had in days," Alex chimes in, raking a
