Anthony’s POV
The forest stretched endlessly before me, its dense, ancient trees whispering secrets on the wind. My wolf stirred restlessly under my skin, a growl rumbling low in my chest. She was close—I could feel it. After weeks of tracking, of chasing whispers and shadows, every instinct screamed that Elara was within reach.
I paused at the edge of a clearing, my sharp gaze scanning the surroundings. The air here was charged, heavy with the faintest trace of her scent, mingled with the acrid tang of damp stone and old magic. My claws flexed against the leather of my gloves. Whoever had taken her had been careful, covering their tracks with layers of enchantments and false trails. But nothing could stop me—not magic, not fear, not time itself. Elara was mine to protect, mine to save.
