Zev’s POV
I’ve been itching for a fight. For days, I've held back, letting my legs move on instinct while my mind gnaws on things I can’t quite name.
The hunger, the cold, the memory of her eyes when she turned to run. And now—finally—action.
The Moonborn bastards circle us like wolves scenting blood. Perfect.
I stretch my fingers, rolling my neck.
The leather of my coat creaks, and the wind curls around me like it knows what’s coming. I can feel it building inside—my wolf—growling under my skin, craving release. But I can’t let it out. Not here. Not yet.
They lunge first.
I duck low, spin, my coat flaring behind me as I drive my elbow into a hunter’s ribs. The crunch is satisfying.
I pivot, grab the next one by the collar, and slam his face into the frozen earth. Electricity c
