"Chow Chow!" Holland shouted, boots skidding on the snow as he sprinted after her.
The moment Kasteil had cracked open the door to her little house, she'd exploded out—golden fur flashing under the floodlights, ears pinned flat, body low and urgent. Holland hadn't waited for Kasteil to react. He'd just run, heart slamming against his ribs, cold air searing his lungs. Something was wrong. Chow Chow didn't behave like this. Her barking wasn't playful or annoyed—it was raw, furious, protective. The kind of sound that raised every hair on the back of his neck.
She tore around the side of the main residence, paws kicking up white plumes, heading straight for the stables. The barking grew louder, sharper—fury mixed with something terrified, something desperate.
"Chow Chow!" Holland called again, lungs burning as he rounded the corner. "You can't just—"
He skidded to a halt so fast snow sprayed around his boots.
There was a man standing in front of the stable doors.
