AYLA'S POV
My chest heaved, lungs burning like I'd swallowed lightning. The silver flame that had erupted from me left my skin raw, my body trembling, my wolf clawing and writhing inside. She wasn't calm—she wasn't steady—she was screaming, demanding I rise, demanding I fight.
But my body wouldn't listen.
Through blurred vision, I saw Kael.
He stood between me and the nightmare, his wolf a wall of black steel. Blood streaked his flank, dripping into the mud. His fur was singed where those glowing runes had burned him, but he didn't back down. His growl was low and endless, vibrating through the ground.
The creature was still standing. Half its face charred, flesh peeling from its skull, but alive—no, more than alive. Fed by the runes. Fueled by whatever dark magic the hunters had bound into its veins.
"Kael…" My voice cracked. Barely a whisper.
He didn't turn. Didn't dare. His focus was locked on the beast, every muscle coiled, ready to spring.
