For one suspended moment, no one dared to move – not Beta Theon, not Malric, not Markkus…Not even the pompous, power-hungry Alphas.
They all stared at Reana. Some with disbelief, others with hope... and a few with pure, ravenous longing, like werewolves starved for ages but finally scented a prey.
But Markkus, he stood still behind Reana's seat, arms crossed, his jaw tight. His expression didn't match the rest of the room.
As a Dark Snow Pack member, he knew better. He'd seen what the humans tried. Every path, every tunnel, every theory… yet, they had all failed.
Not just failed. Failed badly.
Manuscripts left behind by their ancestors claimed there was only one route to the kingdoms but couldn't recall where it was. Teams were sent to travel all routes around the Southern Regions, including the wastelands.
Those sent either went missing, few returned broken and most didn't return at all.
