Lennox's POV
As we moved deeper into the woods, the air changed almost immediately. It became thicker, colder, and too quiet. Even the wind felt like it was holding its breath.
The five so-called elite trackers walked ahead, whispering to each other in a language they tried to hide. But I heard it. My hearing was sharper than any of them imagined.
Warriors followed behind me, wolf and human, their steps steady but alert for any trap.
Golden walked beside my wheelchair, pushing me with one hand, sword on his back. His eyes were shifting left and right like he expected something to jump out at us.
Good.
He should.
We were walking straight into a nest.
After twenty minutes, the forest grew darker. Too dark. The branches twisted unnaturally, and the scent of blood floated in the air, old blood, rotten blood.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
I lifted my hand slightly. Golden understood immediately and stopped pushing.
"Hold," I commanded quietly.
