I stood miles away from the boundary.
The invisible line separating the lycan region and its colonies from the rest of the world shimmered faintly to my senses, not with sight but with power—wards layered upon wards, old magic braided with newer ones, humming like a living thing.
I could feel it pressing against my skin, familiar and unwelcome all at once. Wards made to keep mostly humans away, except they came around with a guard, someone with a keen eye to the supernatural.
This was where I was supposed to be. Not some mountain. In the stage of my plan, this was where I was supposed to be.
And yet, for the first time since I fled the mountains, doubt crept in, even without El's troublesome voice in my head.
I paused on a ridge overlooking the land, the wind tugging at my clothes, carrying scents I recognized too well—wolves, earth, smoke, blood old and new.
Home, if such a word could still apply to me. Or a cage, depending on how one looked at it.
