KAEL'S POV
The footsteps didn't sound human.
Each one came with a faint, wet crack, like bone pressing through frost. The rhythm was wrong—too slow, too careful.
Ayla's body stiffened against me as if she felt it, too.
"Kael…" her whisper was small, barely breathing.
"I hear it."
I shifted my stance, one arm steadying her, the other lowering toward my blade. The snow muffled everything, but the air grew colder—sharper. My breath turned to steam between us.
The sound came closer, just beyond the veil of falling snow. A shadow began to form—tall, uneven, the outline of a wolf that had forgotten how to be either man or beast. The scent hit me next: pine and ash, the faint metallic trace of wolfsbane.
Rylan.
Only it wasn't him. Not fully.
He stepped into view—barefoot, bare-chested, eyes burning that same sick violet the Hollow had worn. The snow melted in a perfect circle around his feet.
Ayla gasped, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "No… it can't be."
