"Yeah?" He didn't turn, his gaze still fixed on the flames. In the flickering light, his face was a landscape of sharp angles and hollows, the shadows under his eyes speaking of exhaustion that went far beyond a single sleepless night. He remained perfectly still, a predator in repose, careful not to make a single movement that might be interpreted as a threat.
She hesitated, the question a heavy stone lodged in her chest, tangled in the roots of pride, fear, and something else, a fragile, unwelcome thing she refused to name.
"The packs," she finally forced out, pulling the worn blanket tighter against a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. "Do they know I'm here?"
A faint crease appeared between his brows, a ripple of focus. "The wolves?"
She nodded, her knuckles white where she gripped the blanket's edge. "You said they can smell for miles. If they're patrolling the borders..." She swallowed hard. "Can they tell there's a human in your territory?"
