The moon hung low over the forest, casting silvery beams that danced across the leaves like liquid light. Glosh crouched behind a thick oak, her heart hammering against her ribs. Every instinct screamed that she should stay hidden, yet every fiber of her being demanded she move forward. The werewolves were near. She could feel it in the air — the tension, the low rumble of growls in the distance, and the faint rustle of fur against underbrush.
Her palms were sweaty, her nails digging into the soft bark of the tree as she tried to steady her racing breath. She had faced them before, yes, but tonight felt different. Heavier. Charged. Dangerous. She could almost taste the tension in the air. Something was coming, something that threatened to change everything.
A pair of glowing amber eyes a
