KAEL'S POV
The wards shivered.
The runes Ayla had burned into the snow and stone flickered silver, then dimmed, as if something cold pressed against them from the other side. My black wolf rose sharp and ready, claws biting into the earth.
The whisper came again, threading through the night air.
"Ayla…"
The sound slithered down my spine, not in my head, not in the bond—in the pack itself.
I stepped in front of her, my hand automatically going to the hilt of my blade, though my wolf howled for claws and teeth. "Stay behind me," I growled, the words rumbling from my chest.
"No," she said, her voice steady but low, silver light already sparking along her arms. "He isn't calling to you. He's calling to me."
The bond flared, and I felt it—her wolf pushing forward, alert and feral, ready to answer the threat.
A low groan split the air as the burned pine at the edge of the ward cracked.
