Page 63 of Saltkin
Ina’s fingers twitched towards her knife before she was fully aware of the movement. Her heart kicked hard against her ribs, old instincts roaring back to life.
“Where is it coming from?” She scanned the garden, the tree-line, the slope down towards the river.
Malachi turned slowly, eyes wide—not with fear, but recognition. That unsettled Ina more than the sound itself.
The howling rolled around Riverside now, no longer distant but hidden just out of sight. A chorus threading through the early grey light of dawn, lifting the hair along Ina’s arms.
“Wolves.” Archie’s voice was low.
He reached out to the cub. It padded over without hesitation. It sniffed Archie’s hand, sneezed, then gave his fingers a sloppy, unapologetic lick before turning and trotting straight back to Ina. It pressed its warm weight against her left like that was where it belonged.
She looked at Archie—injured, unyielding, still standing. Then Malachi, who wasn’t backing away, wasn’t frozen. He looked shaken, yes, but curious. Already stepping forward into a world Archie spent his life trying to hold at bay.
“After all this time…” Ina’s words trailed off as the cub pressed against her, its fur warm against her leg. She swallowed. “Wolves have come back to Latharna.”
