The dense forest gave way to a desolate clearing, where the remnants of an old wolf den stood crumbling under years of neglect. The structure was little more than a hollowed-out burrow surrounded by overgrown weeds and scattered debris.
Eryon stopped short, his keen senses alerting him to something off.
“This place…” he muttered, his voice trailing off as he crouched to inspect the ground. His fingers traced faint claw marks etched into the dirt, long faded but still discernible to his sharp eyes.
Lyra joined him, her silver eyes scanning the area. “What is it?” she asked, her tone cautious.
Eryon straightened, his expression grim.
“This was a holding area,” he said. “Wolves were kept here—prisoners, probably. It’s old, but… it fits.”
Misery stepped closer, her silver eyes darting across the den. Her foot brushed against something, and she crouched to pick it up—a small, tattered piece of fabric. It was dirty and frayed, but something about it made her heart pound.
“Do you think…?” she began, her voice faltering.
Eryon took the cloth from her, bringing it to his nose. He froze, his amber eyes narrowing. “It’s very faint,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s hers. It’s her scent.”
Lyra’s eyes widened, and Misery’s breath hitched. The discovery was like a spark in the darkness—a glimmer of hope in their grueling search. But it also brought with it a cold, creeping dread. If their child had been here, it meant she had been in the hands of wolves who valued strength above all else.
“She might have been here,” Misery murmured, clutching her hands tightly to stop their trembling. “But if she was…”
Eryon finished her thought, his jaw tightening.
“If she was, then her life here wasn’t easy. And if the Crescent Howl pack was involved…”
He didn’t need to say more. The name alone carried a weight of cruelty and oppression, a reputation built on the backs of the weak. Misery’s silver eyes burned with renewed determination.
“Then we’ll go there too,” she said, her voice steady. “No matter what.”
The group shared a silent understanding as they moved to leave the desolate den. This was only the beginning, but the faint trail they had found reignited their drive. Each step forward brought them closer to answers, closer to her.
In the distance, the forest grew darker, the path winding toward Crescent Howl territory.