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This is nothing like that.

People mill about as if each of them has a task to do. Scouts perch on lookout towers while a few precious women and children bustle below, heading to a colorful market that’s on the other side of the encampment where most of the pack is clustered. There won’t be many families on Monster Isle, but like every territory, they have to keep their population up.

Eyeing the women, I search for signs of distress, but I don’t see any. Most of the females in the pack look like Ulara, strong and capable, but a few seem smaller, like me.

Human.

It’s only a guess, but I’m human, and I’m here. Still, I’m too far away to really tell, so I scan my surroundings instead to see what other information I can collect.

There’s a tree in the distance that seems illuminated by the sun. I take note of it but move on.

Near the train tracks stand strong stone houses. An explosion could rock this island, and I imagine they’d still stand strong, like the people within them.

But there’s softness I didn’t expect. The same antler wind chimes sing an endearing song as my gaze skates up to a patchy shadow, and my eyes widen.

The entire encampment is surrounded by a massive wooden wall, and at the top are a row of spikes and barbed wire to keep anyone—or anything—out.

“You live in a prison?” I blurt, then mentally pinch myself.

It’s more like a fortress, but the orderly atmosphere and defenses make everything feel so rigid.

Still, insulting the Alpha on day one is probably not the best survival tactic, but I’m exhausted, my lungs burn, and I could eat two full dinners of roasted pheasant followed by a dessert of cranberry tartlets.

Something I’ll probably never eat again.

“Depends on your definition of a prison,” he says as he scans the approaching crowd.

I stiffen when they all swagger with long strides.

Men.

Or rather, wolf shifters.

They pass the entourage of new girls with Ulara in the lead. A few of the younger males seem to lean in as if they can smell the women even under the masking soap, but one look from Ulara has them keeping their distance.

Some of the girls nervously look back toward the train.

I stay in Godric’s shadow, given that I have no desire to alert anyone that I’m still alive.

Except Sofia. I’ll definitely have to find her later.

My heart sinks as I spot her at the end of the line shuffling her feet.

She’s wearing a dress.

Hang in there, Sofia.

Three of the largest men break from the group and head straight for Godric. If they notice me, they don’t say anything.

“We need you back at the den,” the tallest male says. He has eyes similar to Godric’s, except they’re darker. He’s wearing an emblem around his neck similar to Godric’s, though his seems to be made of metal instead of wood.

Godric doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m gone for a few days and the pack falls apart, eh, Ronan?” He slaps the male on the back, then begins walking. “Don’t worry. That’s where I was heading.”

I blink a few times until Godric glances back at me and gives me a jerk of his chin. “Follow.”

He says it as if I should have already assumed and automatically been moving my feet.

Frowning, I suppress all the curses that linger on my tongue, and I swallow them down. I make my legs move, only because I know I’m outnumbered.