Chapter 40
The forest is alive with night.
Moonlight filters through the canopy in silver ribbons, illuminating the two wolves as they bound through the undergrowth. The black wolf leads at first, large and powerful, his form slicing through the darkness like a shadow come alive. Behind him, the white wolf follows with elegant strides, her glowing coat a beacon of light in the gloom.
They dance through the woods—glimpses of fur, bursts of breath, paws thudding against the earth. Their energy is wild and euphoric, two primal beings drunk on the scent of each other, the taste of night, the rush of freedom.
He slows suddenly, darting to the left, and she responds with a mocking yip, veering right to cut him off. They crash into each other with a thud, rolling over damp grass and leaves. He ends up beneath her, teeth bared in a teasing snarl, but she licks his snout before leaping off, tail high and proud.
