The clearing was a battlefield reborn, scarred earth still smoking from Kaelen's last assault. The air shimmered with residual magic, each pulse sending a jolt of energy through Selara's veins. Her silver eyes glimmered with a quiet intensity, reflecting the moonlight and the chaos that rippled through the trees. Around her, the wolves padded silently, tails low but coiled, their eyes alert and muscles taut, ready to strike at her command.
Draven knelt beside her, gold eyes scanning every shadow, every movement. His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining with a slow, deliberate intimacy that made the storm around them seem almost distant. "Ready?" he asked, voice low, carrying both a warning and an unspoken question of trust.
