The rogues attacked before dawn.
The pack rose to meet them, blood and fur staining the snow. Kael shifted, his massive wolf tearing through enemies with savage fury, his dreadlocks whipping as his claws ripped shadow-flesh apart.
Aradia fought at his side, her fire a blazing crown, but the shadow whispered in her ears as she struck.
You burned him once. You will burn him again.
Her flames wavered. She saw visions—Kael dying in her arms centuries ago, her fire consuming him even as he swore his eternal love. Her chest tightened, her magic faltered.
A rogue broke through, claws raised. Kael struck it down before it touched her, his body shielding hers. His green eyes burned into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do not listen! You are mine, not the shadow's!"
Her fire surged in answer, burning brighter, defying the whispers. For the first time, she pushed the shadow back not with fear, but with love.
And it recoiled.