Damien.
The freezing mountain wind lashed against my face, cutting straight through my heavy leather coat as we pushed through the narrow back ridge. Snow crunching beneath my boots was the only constant sound in the quiet forest, save for the heavy, labored breathing of three Alphas trying to outrun a war.
I stayed two steps behind Noah, my eyes darting frantically between the dense treeline on our left and the pale, still form tucked against his chest.
Noah was carrying Maria, his arms wrapped around her like an iron vise. He had wrapped her tightly in three layers of thick wolf furs, shielding her fragile frame from the biting cold. Her head rested against the crook of his neck, completely unconscious, her golden hair spilling over his arm like silk.
