Chapter 27 The Pack

• The ride to the southern border was quiet at first, the trees whipping past as the vehicle wound through Blackstone territory. The damage from the fires hadn’t spread as far as they’d feared, but the charred scent of ash still lingered in the breeze.
• Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Jenna’s thigh. His thumb traced slow, grounding circles over the fabric of her leggings—possessive, steady, a wordless reassurance that she was real and here. Every so often, his golden eyes flicked her way, as if needing the constant reassurance that she was really there.
• When they arrived, the southern borderlands buzzed with quiet activity—wolves helping wolves. The scent of scorched earth hung in the air, but alongside it came the tang of healing salves, freshly turned soil, and the determination of a united pack.