Mia
Luke and I officially confirmed our bond on the day of the first winter snow.
I was deep in the borderland woods, running through my daily dagger drills, when a feral rogue wolf ambushed me. It reeked of rotting meat and dried blood. It moved faster and fought much dirtier than any normal wolf, but its target wasn't my throat. It was my shoulder.
It was trying to drag me away alive.
By the time Luke arrived, I had already buried my silver-coated short blade deep into its thigh, but the sheer force of its mass had knocked me flat onto the frozen ground.
Luke didn't even hesitate. He shifted mid-air.
It was the very first time I had ever seen Luke’s wolf form.
He wasn't a standard, grey-furred guard wolf.
His wolf was colossal—pitch black, easily standing a full head taller than
