AYLA'S POV
The wind howled through the gorge like the mountain itself was warning us away. Snow and shards of ice bit my face, carried by a bitter updraft that smelled of stone, pine, and faintly—blood.
Rylan's hand was still outstretched, his amber-and-violet eyes locked on mine, urgent and steady. "Trust me, Ayla. There's a path the Seers don't know. But we are moving now."
Kael's growl rumbled low and primal in his chest, his golden eyes burning as the bond pulsed sharp with his anger. "You think I trust a rogue who's been following her since the dungeon? I should tear your throat out where you stand."
Rylan didn't flinch, speaking with order. "Then tear it out after I save your pack."
Snow crunched behind us—wolves, green-eyed and silent, pouring into the narrow pass. The echo of Cassia's horn vibrated through my ribs.
I stepped between them, my blood still hot from the fight, my side throbbing with every heartbeat.
