The pack grounds erupted in celebration when the convoy returned. People lined the paths, cheering and crying with relief. Children ran alongside the wagons. Elders stood with hands pressed to their hearts, giving thanks to the ancestors.
Aria saw it all through a haze of exhaustion, but the sheer force of their joy reached her anyway. These people had mobilized an army to rescue her. Had risked their lives because she was pack, because she was family, because she mattered to them.
The wagon stopped in the main square and Cassidy helped Aria down. Her legs were steadier now. The drugs were mostly flushed from her system, but she still felt wrung out and fragile.
