AYLA'S POV
The pack narrowed to smoke, snow, and the sound of Nico's soft, terrified sobs.
Cassia stood at the heart of the rogue camp, framed by the writhing smoke of the eyeless god. Her white-and-gold cloak fluttered in the wind, the firelight painting her face in warm gold that didn't touch the ice in her eyes.
"Little Luna," she called, her voice carrying over the valley with an almost musical lilt. "Come and kneel… or the boy's blood will wake Him fully."
The eyeless god rippled behind her, shadow dripping across the snow like black oil. Every wolf in the camp—green-eyed, thrall-bound—stood unnervingly still, their heads tilted, their bodies rigid, awaiting a single command.
Kael crouched beside me on the ridge, his golden eyes burning with barely leashed fury.
We end this tonight, he sent through the bond, feral and focused. No more games.
