The battle raged beneath the blood-stained sky, a cacophony of snarls, clashing steel, and the scent of iron thick in the air. Layla’s heart pounded as she fought alongside Ronan, their movements in sync, their wolves thrumming with the shared energy of battle. Stormborn warriors clashed with the rogues in a frenzy of blood and claws, the night sky illuminated by torches and the eerie glow of the Blood Moon.
Layla drove her dagger into the throat of a rogue before spinning away, her breath ragged. She barely had time to recover before another charged at her, fangs bared. Before she could react, Ronan was there, tearing through the wolf with ruthless efficiency. The fight was relentless, their bodies moving on instinct, pushing past exhaustion.
But then, a ripple of unease crawled up her
