STEFAN MONTESSORI
Brothers and Blades!
I ran through thorns. Through mud. Through air that felt like smoke in my lungs.
Cardan was behind me, and this time, I knew he wasn’t going to stop.
His voice echoed through the trees like a curse, sharp and feral.
“STEFAN!”
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Every step felt like the earth wanted to swallow me whole. Branches clawed at my face, my arms. My chest burned, my legs trembled.
And still, I ran.
The sky above me twisted with storm clouds, a dark mess of roiling gray and blood-red. Lightning cracked through the heavens, illuminating the blade in Cardan’s hand.
It wasn’t just any blade.
It was a fangblade.
A weapon only used by the alphas of old, carved from the jaw of a fallen pack leader, soaked in the blood of the betrayed. No one
