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CHAPTER NINETY-TWO: SNEAKING INTO THE PACK

Stephanie's Perspective:

As if carried on the wind, Brock's wolf appeared beside me in a breathless moment. The burden of my friend's weight on my back slowed my stride. Together, we headed south toward our pack, while Brock veered southwest, circling behind the hospital to avoid the turmoil tearing through the vicinity.

It was then that Brock had a flash of insight, recalling a hidden tunnel near the western mountains—a secretive passageway that burrowed beneath our pack's territory. With this knowledge, he subtly altered our course, steering us away from the tumult of battle.

Brock's plan was a gamble, but desperation lent us speed. The dense forest blurred past, becoming a mottled tapestry of shadows and moonlight. My lungs burned with the cold night air, and somewhere beneath the discordance of our flight, I could hear the distant howls and cries of our wolves, a grim symphony to our plight.

"Stephanie," he panted, his voice barely above a growl, "the cave with the tunnel is clos
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