The battle struck with fury unlike any before. Wolves clashed with rogues, snow melted into rivers of blood. Aradia's fire roared, her flames blazing across the battlefield, but the shadow bent them, twisted them, feeding on every spark.
Kael fought like a god, his massive wolf tearing through enemies with unstoppable force. But Ronan descended, his body towering, his claws glowing black.
They clashed—Alpha against Shadow Lord—green eyes against pits of darkness. The ground split beneath their fury, the air shattering with their blows.
Aradia screamed, her fire blazing, but every strike she loosed bent toward Ronan, feeding him, strengthening him.
"You see?" he roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "You are mine, witch. Your fire is my fire. Your soul is my soul. And when he falls, you will kneel."
Kael staggered, blood dripping, his green eyes dimming.
And Aradia knew—if she did not unleash everything, she would lose him.
But if she unleashed everything, she might destroy them all.