Echoes Of War | Fantasy [Book #1]

CHAPTER XXI | THE STORM

"Found anything?"

Silver's growl is nearly swallowed by the storm, his voice ragged and frayed at the edges. Snow lashes sideways, stinging Lunis's face as she turns toward the old male. His daffodil eyes narrow, sweeping over her and Blaze with a searching, desperate intensity.

Blaze shakes his head, shoulders sagging beneath his thickening layer of frost.

Lunis exhales, the sound barely carrying over the wind. "I can't see or smell anything through this snow."

The admission tastes bitter on her tongue.

Frustration claws at her insides, snapping and coiling beneath her skin like a trapped, furious animal. The world around them is nothing but white-white sky, white earth, white swirling chaos-smothering every scent, every track, every hope.

Though the sun is little more than a pale smudge behind the dense curtain of clouds, the wolves know how long they've been searching. Nearly an entire sun cycle spent pushing through drifts that swallow their legs, through winds that steal their breath, through cold that sinks into bone.

And for what?

They have covered scarcely half their territory-half, when they need the whole-and already the storm is growing fierce enough to erase their trail even as they make it.

Snow clings to Lunis's lashes, melting into cold rivulets that sting her eyes.
She blinks hard.
She refuses to let the fear in her chest break open.

But each heartbeat makes it harder.

They are running out of time.
And Echo and Zira... Sumar's flaming eye, where could they be?

The storm answers with a howl, ripping the warmth from her coat, pushing her deeper into dread.

"Silver!"

The voice cuts through the blizzard-deep, commanding, strained at the edges. Rohan emerges from the curtain of snow like a phantom carved from ice and shadow, his tall frame nearly swallowed by the storm. Navira hobbles beside him, leaning subtly against his shoulder with each step.

Even through the swirling chaos, Lunis sees it-the worry flickering in Rohan's eyes, unmistakable despite the mask of snow clinging to his fur. He presses himself closer to his mate, guiding her with steady, protective pressure.

When they come within a tail-length, Lunis's breath catches.

Navira is holding one paw off the ground.

"What happened?" The Gamma barks over the wind, her heart thudding with sudden alarm.

Navira shifts, attempting to place her paw down, only to wince as she curls it back up. She offers a soft, reassuring smile that doesn't quite hide the strain tugging at the corners of her muzzle.

"It's nothing to worry about," she insists gently. "Just a little sting from the cold. Nothing to fret over."

Silver's growl is immediate-low, sharp, carrying the authority of years and the bite of a father scolding a reckless pup.

"You and I both know that isn't something to ignore," he snaps, stepping forward without hesitation. "You'll catch your death if you aren't careful, Navira."

The storm howls between them, icy wind snapping at their fur, but the old healer's voice remains strong-fierce, protective, almost pleading beneath the gruffness.

The matriarch hesitates-just for a heartbeat-Silver's words sinking beneath her fur. Her ears tip back, her jaw tightens, and Lunis can almost see the argument forming behind her eyes before Navira shakes her head.