The war raged again.
Wolves clashed with rogues, blood soaking the snow. The Shadow poured across the battlefield, its tendrils suffocating, its whispers endless.
Kael fought like storm incarnate. His massive wolf ripped through enemies, his claws glowing gold where her fire had touched him. His green eyes blazed brighter than shadow, brighter than gods.
But he paid the price.
Ronan struck, claws sinking deep into Kael's chest. His massive frame staggered, his blood pouring into snow. The pack howled, Aradia screamed, but Kael stood tall even as his body broke.
"You will not touch her," he snarled, his voice ragged but unyielding. "Not while I breathe. Not while I burn."
His claws tore into Ronan, fire blazing along his strikes. Every blow was agony. Every breath was war.
And every strike bought her another heartbeat.