Harry ran his long hands over his face in frustration.
He hadn't anticipated how long it would take to get to the werewolf pack.
His men didn't seem in any rush to get there and it was driving him mad.
It didn't help when two wagons lost wheels and they needed to stop and get this fixed.
The longer it took them to get into position, the longer the wolves had to prepare.
He didn't know who to blame for Isla's escape, but if he did, that person would meet the sharp end of his blade.
They were stopped once again, but this time it was so that the men could eat and rest.
He sat on his own next to a fire, his untouched plate of food next to him.
He wondered idly if Gaius has brought his men to the werewolves.
His spies at the fellow king's castle had told him he left with a number of soldiers, but there was no proof he had gone to the werewolves or had even made it.