Inside, waves boomed distantly and water dripped from the ceiling like a ticking clock. Alvarez carried the crate as if it were made of spun glass, watching the monitors glow. On the far side, moonlight revealed the cove—and a shadow waiting at the shore’s edge: the mother wolf.
When the flashlight beam touched her, she growled low, unsure. Noemi knelt, opened the crate door, and edged back. The pup stirred, gave a weak yip. The mother’s posture changed instantly. She trotted forward, whining softly, and nosed the pup. Alvarez eased the oxygen mask off.