AYLA'S POV
The air split with my howl.
It wasn't a sound I made with my lungs and throat. It came from somewhere deeper, a pulse that tore through stone and marrow alike, reverberating across the ruins. The temple quaked in response, as though it had been waiting for this voice to return for centuries.
Silver flames licked from my fur, every strand of it glowing as if woven from moonlight. My paws dug furrows into the stone floor. The scent of fire and frost bled from me, drowning out the blood and smoke.
Kael was frozen, still half-shifted, golden eyes wide, chest heaving. His wolf was on its knees inside him—I could feel it—submitting, not to him, but to me.
Cassia shrieked, stumbling backward. "No! No, this isn't possible! She was supposed to—she was supposed to burn!"
Maric snarled, his one good eye blazing. "The Silver Wolf." His voice was heavy with something between rage and awe. "I thought the bloodline was a myth."
