Jasper paced near the landing strip, watching as another transport plane touched down on Silverholm soil. The sleek aircraft taxied to a stop, its engines powering down with a whine that had become all too familiar in recent days. Each landing brought a mixture of relief and dread—relief that more refugees had been safely extracted, dread at what news might arrive with them.
"Third flight today," said Ronan Thorne, materializing beside him with that silent grace all wolves seemed to possess.
I nodded, hands shoved deep in my pockets against the mountain chill. "Any word from Kaelen?"
The question had been burning in my gut since news reached us about the bombing of his convoy. Though we weren't close friends by any stretch, I'd developed a grudging respect for the Alpha King. More importantly, I knew what his loss would mean to Isabel and the rest of our fragile coalition.
