The storm roared around them, but the world between Daniel and the wolf was silent. Shadow stood at the center of the pack, his massive frame outlined by the swirling snow, his eyes locked onto Daniel’s. The other wolves waited, their bodies tense, poised on the edge of action.
Daniel’s chest tightened. He was outnumbered, freezing, and exhausted. If they attacked, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He had seen packs tear apart prey before—swift, brutal, merciless. But Shadow wasn’t moving. He seemed to be waiting. And that was somehow worse.