AYLA'S POV
The valley stank of blood and smoke.
The last tendrils of shadow curled away into the night, leaving black scorch marks in the snow. Wolves moved slowly among the bodies—thralls and fallen packmates alike—sniffing, nudging, mourning in low whines.
I stood in the center of the ruined circle, silver fire still faintly pulsing along my arms, my knees trembling under the weight of what we'd done. The bond throbbed in my chest, hot and alive, and Kael's presence pressed against me like a wall of heat and steel.
He shifted to human form, snow steaming off his skin, golden eyes sharp. He crossed the bloodied snow in three long strides and cupped my face in his hands. "You're shaking," he said, voice low and rough.
"I'm fine," I lied, though my fingers trembled against his wrists. "It's just… the bond. It feels like it's on fire."
