Tora led the way at first, taking the pack deep into the area of the forest where they’d met Phelan before. As they ran, they all studied the trail and the surrounding trees for any evidence of the lone wolf, but there was no sign of him anywhere. At times they came across the scent of the wolves whose tracks they’d seen near the school, but they weren’t looking for another wolf pack now, just a lone werewolf who might have an idea about what was killing their brother.

And so the search continued.

They were more than two hours into their run and Tora knew the logical thing to do was call it a night and try again in the morning. Although they were in the part of the forest where they knew Phelan lived, the pack was doing little more than searching blindly in the dark. The light of the moon was helping them find their way, but it was still too dark to make out tracks or other details in the snow. And even though they couldn’t see any tracks, if there were any Harlan would surely have been able to pick up Phelan’s scent by now, even with his cold. Harlan had been sniffing the trail the entire time, but each time Tora or Argus gave him an inquisitive look, he just shook his head and lowered his snout to the ground again.

Even though there seemed little chance that the pack would succeed in finding Phelan in the darkness, there was no way Harlan and Argus were going to give up on a chance to save their brother. And neither would Tora. They would all keep searching until none of them was able to search any longer.

Just then Harlan stopped at the edge of the trail. His body tensed, and his head rose up off the snow-covered ground. Argus gave his brother a little nudge, but Harlan did not move. He sniffed at the air with his snout as if he smelled something in the wind rather than on the ground.

Tora was the first to change her shape, transforming the upper part of her body enough to make speech possible. “What is it, Harlan?”

Harlan was transforming too, but before he could say anything—

A huge mass of fur seemed to explode from the woods, crashing into Argus and sending the biggest member of the pack sliding down the trail.

Argus recovered quickly, setting himself on all fours, ready for a fight. But instead of a fight, there was only laughter.

“Will you never learn, Argus Brock?” said Phelan in his familiar rasp of a voice. “I followed you for some time.”

Argus remained tense, his teeth partially bared but not in a smile.

Harlan stared at Phelan, but said nothing.

Tora was first to speak. “Someday, Phelan, you will teach us how to move through the forest without being seen…but not today.”