POV: Akira.
The darkness chased her.
**AKIRA** ran, not with fear—but with fury.
The forest trembled beneath her feet. The talisman at her throat blazed like moonfire, silver light spilling across bark and root. Behind her, the pack thundered after her—snarls, claws, muscle, death.
But she didn’t stop.
Couldn’t.
She skidded to a halt in a clearing, chest heaving, palms burning with magic.
She turned.
Waited.
They came—seven werewolves, eyes glowing, teeth bared.
And behind them—
**AIDEN.**
Calm. Always calm. Watching.
Akira raised both hands. Her eyes, once soft and quiet, now glowed like stormlight. Ancient words left her lips—old and sharp and full of memory.
The earth trembled.
The trees shivered.
**FLAMES ERUPTED.**
Blue fire—cold and furious—shot from her fingertips,
