*Jared*
Archer nudged the black mass of the dead wolf with the toe of his boot, his face twisted in a grimace.
I could scent both women in this cave. The fire they’d started was cool to the touch, but the charcoal was still oily from whatever they’d used to start it. I rubbed the ash between my fingers as I crouched, looking around.
“How’d they get so far off course?” Brandt said from the entrance of the cave as he slid his favorite dagger back into his belt.
“Lock was here too,” Archer said quietly, his boots leaving bloody footprints as he walked out of the cave and looked around. “And two scouts, I think.”
“I know,” I breathed, rising from my position and running my fingers through my hair. I didn’t mention that I could smell blood other than the wolves. They knew it too, but none of us were willing to admit what that meant.