tang of Mirefang blood still lingered in the air where the shadow creature had dissolved, a grim satisfaction warring with the familiar ache of his wounds. The silver light of the waning

iveness, an instinct he hadn't felt in years, had flared within him the moment he saw the shadow creature lunge. They were rare in this part of the territory, usually confined to th

wolf haunted by the echoes of his past. The Thornclaw Pack, his birthright, now belonged to his brother, Lucien, a ruthless pragmatist who had embraced the ancient blood-pact Kael had vehemently reject

fe out of their Lycan spirit. Yet, his rejection had made him a pariah, hunted not only by the Mirefangs, Lucien's brutal en

son he had learned long ago. Yet, there was something about her, a vulnerability in her wide, startled eyes, that had triggered a primal protectiveness he couldn't

s true self, the wildness within momentarily soothed by the primal instinct of his Lycan form. He scented the air, the rain-washed forest carrying the faint, lingering scent of the shadow cre

dark stain on his side now just a faint discoloration of the skin. The curse of the Thorne bloodline was both a torment and a gift – the uncontrollable

ught between two worlds, neither fully human nor fully Lycan, forever an outsider. The throne of the Thornclaw Pack, the responsibility he had once been groomed

also seen a flicker of something else in her eyes – a spark of curiosity, perhaps even a hint of... r

h a human would only bring more danger, more complications to his already precarious existence. Lucie

had exuded – it stirred something within him that he thought had long been dormant. He had saved her on instinct, a primal urge to protect the innoc

man woman who had witnessed the shadow in the pines. He told himself it was to ensure her silence, to assess the threat she might pose to his hidden world. But deep down, a more dangerous, more compelling reason was beginning to take root – a flicker of