Dante's Army
The journey back through the forest felt endless. Every shadow seemed to hide a threat, every rustling leaf a warning. Aurora clutched the First Wolf's Fang tightly, its power humming against her palm.
"Do you hear that?" she whispered, stopping suddenly.
The others froze. The hissing sound had grown closer, slithering through the underbrush behind them.
"We're being tracked," Elias said urgently. "Juliet or her followers."
Dante winced as he shifted his wounded shoulder. "We can't outrun them with the pups. We need somewhere safe."
Aurora glanced at him, suspicion flaring despite their recent alliance. "Any suggestions?"
A strange look crossed Dante's face—hesitation mixed with resolve. "Actually, yes. But you'll have to trust me."
"Trust you?" Elias laughed bitterly. "After everything?"
"We don't have time for this," Dante snapped, as the hissing grew louder. "Those pups won't survive if we're caught in the open."