ROWAN
The radio was still warm in my hand from the last time Victor spoke and the field was still full of his men and I had used thirteen of the twenty minutes he gave me and I still didn't know what I was going to say when the last seven ran out.
Marco had not said anything since we came back to the wall and that silence told me more than anything he could have put into words.
Marco had been Beta of Gravemoon for eleven years. He had stood beside my father through three territorial disputes and two pack wars and the year after our mother died when the pack ran without an Alpha's mate for eighteen months. Marco knew what bad looked like. His silence right now was its own language.
I kept my eyes on the tree line.
Then someone on the east side of the wall called out and I turned.
Ryker was running. Not moving at pace, not jogging. Running.
