Nymera’s POV
Astra’s dagger gleamed in the dying torchlight.
Dain lay crumpled behind her, blood pooling beneath him.
I could barely breathe.
Astra licked the blood from the blade, grinning at me.
"This ends here, Nymera. You and your little pack of fools—done."
"No," I rasped, stepping forward.
She tilted her head, mocking. "Still so brave. Still so stupid."
I kept moving. Every instinct screamed to run—but if I ran, Dain died.
And somehow, even now, a thread of the bond between us pulsed in the air.
I wouldn’t abandon him. Not like this.
"You’re bleeding, you’re exhausted, you have no one," Astra sneered.
"Just accept it. Kneel."
The word burned through me.
I remembered every mocking laugh.
Every time they called me Wolfless.
Every betrayal.
I met Astra’s gaze squarely.
