Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Catherine's eyes flashed with a moment of impatience before she lunged forward, trying to grab the silver glint, but she only caught air. She watched helplessly as the whistle disappeared into the dark forest, her face showing clear anxiety for the first time.

Amara watched her with immense satisfaction.

She signaled to the black-clad bodyguards hidden in the shadows at the entrance, her voice low but commanding: "Make sure nothing gets out, not even a fly."

"Got it, Ms. Spencer."

The bodyguards responded promptly, sealing off the entrance swiftly and silently.

Amara clapped her hands in satisfaction, turned, and took out her phone, dialing a number: "Hey, Gavin, it's done."

Gavin's deep voice came through the phone, with a hint of an almost imperceptible smile: "Good."

Amara hung up, humming a tune triumphantly, as if she could already see Catherine trapped in the mountains or torn apart by wild beasts.

She and Gavin had set this trap perfectly.

The terrain of the back mountain was complex, and at night, it was full of dangers. How could a "fool" possibly make it out alive?

However, they had underestimated Catherine.

Watching the direction where the wolf's fang whistle disappeared, the anxiety in Catherine's eyes quickly faded, replaced by a cold calm.

Instead of panicking, she tilted her head slightly, listening to the sounds of the entrance being sealed behind her. Her lips curled up in a barely noticeable smile.

Perfect!

Her familiarity with the back mountain far exceeded anyone's imagination. This place was less of a trap and more of her home turf.

Catherine didn't hesitate any longer. She straightened her slightly disheveled clothes, her gaze as calm as water, and stepped into the deep forest.

Her pace was slow but exceptionally steady, a stark contrast to her usual clueless and foolish demeanor.

The forest was dimly lit, with shadows of trees swaying, and the air was filled with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves.

Catherine skillfully avoided the vines and slippery moss underfoot, occasionally looking up to check her direction, as if she were taking a stroll in her own backyard.

After walking a distance and confirming that no one was following her, she stopped and took out a small, inconspicuous bamboo whistle from her pocket. The whistle was simple and rustic, completely different from Amara's flashy wolf fang whistle.

Catherine brought the bamboo whistle to her lips and blew a low, melodious tune.

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to have a peculiar penetrating quality. It echoed through the silent forest, blending with the wind and insect chirps yet distinct.

She wasn't playing a simple melody but an ancient call that only specific partners could understand.

Moments later, a rustling sound came from deep within the forest, growing closer.

Soon, several agile shadows darted out, stopping in the shadows of the trees not far away. They were a few robust wolves, their eyes glowing green in the dim light, watching Catherine warily.

But they didn't attack; instead, they lowered their heads slightly, as if waiting for something.

Quickly, a larger figure emerged from behind the wolf pack. It was a giant wolf, pure white, with fur so clean it had no trace of any other color, standing out in the dark forest.

It was larger than its companions, with sharp, intelligent eyes, and a shallow scar running from its forehead to its nose, adding to its majesty.

This was the leader of the back mountain wolf pack, "Emberclaw."

Emberclaw stopped a few steps away from Catherine, tilting its head. Its ice-blue eyes scrutinized her, seemingly confirming her identity.

Catherine's face broke into a genuine, gentle smile.

She put away the bamboo whistle, took two steps forward, and crouched down to meet Emberclaw's gaze. She reached out her hand without any fear, gently placing it on Emberclaw's broad forehead, her fingers softly tracing the shallow scar.

"Emberclaw, long time no see." Her voice was clear, with a hint of nostalgia, "I'm back."

Emberclaw let out a low whimper, as if responding.

It nuzzled Catherine's palm, the wariness and sharpness in its eyes replaced by a familiar and evident closeness.

The surrounding wolves also relaxed, lying quietly in their spots.

Catherine gently scratched Emberclaw's chin, its favorite spot. "Someone wants to trap me here, looks like I'll be staying a while."

Meanwhile, in the study of the Smith Villa.

Richard finished his paperwork and habitually checked the time.

It was already nine o'clock, and Catherine hadn't returned. According to the usual "routine," Catherine should have been brought back by the Spencer family's servants by now.

He frowned slightly and dialed Catherine's phone, but the cold shutdown message came through the receiver.

A sense of unease crept into his heart.

Just then, a few unusual wolf howls faintly reached his ears from outside.

The sound was different from the occasional scattered howls he usually heard. It was more intense and excited and seemed to come from the direction of Dragon Peak Mountain nearby.

Richard wheeled himself to the window, listening intently.

The howls continued, even carrying a hint of... a gathering?

"Ian!" Richard picked up the intercom, his voice cold and decisive, "Gather the team immediately, prepare to search the mountain! Target, the back mountain area. Also, check Catherine's whereabouts today, especially after the afternoon."

"Yes, Mr. Smith!"

Richard hung up, his deep gaze fixed on the dark outline of the back mountain outside the window.

Catherine, you better be okay.

Elsewhere, on the terrace of a private club with a view of the back mountain at night.

Amara was snuggled up to Gavin, playfully shaking his arm: "Gavin, when are you going to get me that bag you promised? I did a great job today!"

Gavin held his wine glass, his eyes on the distant, blurry mountain shadows, a casual smile on his lips: "Don't worry, I'll get it for you."

Just then, a clear wolf howl carried over on the night breeze, more distinct than what Richard heard at the Smith Villa.

The howls rose and fell, carrying a primal wildness and power, freezing the atmosphere on the terrace.

Amara's smile faltered, instinctively clutching Gavin's arm: "What's that sound? Wolves? Why are there so many wolves in the mountains?"

Gavin's smile also faded. He listened closely, his brows furrowing slowly. These wolf howls... something was off.

There were too many of them, and they seemed to have a unified tone. He knew the back mountain had wolf packs, but he'd never heard such a scale of howling.

A sense of unease quietly expanded in his heart.

He looked back at the slightly frightened Amara beside him, his tone calm, even soothing: "Don't worry, just a few wolves. What kind of bag do you want? I'll have it sent to you tomorrow."

Amara relaxed, starting to describe the style and color she wanted. Gavin responded intermittently, his gaze returning to the dark mountain range, becoming thoughtful.