Nymera’s POV
The black-striped warrior—Graeven, as I heard others call him—took charge fast.
"Fall back to the ridge," he barked. "We regroup there. Move!"
His warriors obeyed without hesitation, dragging the injured with them, finishing off any stragglers from Astra’s broken army. The enemy wolves had scattered into the trees, their lines shattered.
Kaelith helped me lift Dain. His body was heavy, but his breathing had steadied, shallow but strong.
The brand on my arm pulsed with every heartbeat.
Tethered.
Bound.
One life now threaded through another.
I didn’t understand it fully.
I only knew one thing:
I wasn’t letting Dain die.
Not now. Not ever.
We crossed the river again, this time without enemy claws snapping at our heels. The current was vicious, but we pressed through
