AYLA'S POV
The wind screamed through the Frostfangs as we ran.
Kael's black wolf tore through the snow ahead of me, his massive paws barely making a sound. My wolf ran at his flank, silver fire sparking from my fur with every stride. The bond pulsed hot between us, steady and strong now, no longer a fragile thread but a brand—one heartbeat, one purpose.
And that purpose was Northmoon.
Smoke thickened with every step, acrid and bitter. I could taste ash in the back of my throat before I saw the first sparks through the trees. My wolf's fur bristled, and through the tether I felt Kael's rage coil tight, molten and sharp.
"He burned our den," I said, my mental voice a low snarl. He touched our home.
"Then we make him regret it," Kael answered, his golden eyes flashing back at me before he lunged faster, a streak of shadow and fury.
We broke through the treeline—and my stomach dropped.
Northmoon was burning.
