JACK’S POV
The forest surrounding Silverpine was too quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that came with peace, or even caution. This was the kind that settled after something had gone wrong, when everything living had learned—quickly and brutally—that drawing attention was the fastest way to die.
I leaned against the rough bark of a dead tree, one boot braced on its roots, eyes half-lidded, listening.
No birds.
No scurrying animals.
No distant movement.
No careless footsteps from the idiots I had dragged into something far bigger than they understood.
Good.
They were learning.
Agonizingly slow.
But learning.
It had been like this since the last attack.
The rogues had gone quiet, slipping through territory like ghosts instead of tearing through it like beasts.
No unnecessary fights. No wasted energy. No reckless displays of dominance that would have gotten them killed two weeks ago.
Caution.
It sat wrong on them.
