AYLA'S POV
Rhea's chant rose over the wind. "Cut the bond. Cut the King. Cut the line."
Kael roared, his wolf bursting through his skin, fur sprouting along his arms as he half-shifted. He hurled himself at the fire wall, claws outstretched. It didn't move. He slammed to the ground with a snarl.
Kael voiced. "AYLA!" His voice broke on my name.
"I've got it!" I screamed back, planting my palms on the snow.
The First Luna's mark ignited across my arms in silver fire. The ground pulsed. My blood hummed with a rhythm older than language.
"They want to serve you," my mother's voice whispered in my mind. "So serve them first."
I reached. Not with my hands—with the scent-bond that tethered Kael to me, and me to every wolf in this pack.
The world exploded in sensation.
I smelled fear—Rhea's. Sweat and burnt fur. I smelled lust for power—Cassia's. Sweet and rotting, like spoiled honey. I smelled blood. Nico's.
I yanked.
