POV: Araya
Dorian steps fully into the clearing, his boots crunching on the snow. His eyes sweep over the group, lingering on Ronan and the sisters before settling on Araya.
"Araya Varrow," Dorian says, drawing out her name like it's a joke. "Or should I say, the wolf-less reject who was supposed to die in the forest."
Ronan growls, the sound low and dangerous. "Leave. Now."
Dorian's gaze shifts to Ronan, and something flickers in his eyes. Fear, maybe. But he hides it quickly behind arrogance.
"Easy, Direwolf," Dorian says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I was just passing through when I caught a familiar scent."
"You're lying," Selvara says. Her voice is sharp, cutting. "No one just passes through this territory. Not unless they have a death wi
