Selina's POV
The thumping of the silver shields against the stone grew louder, a rhythmic, predatory heartbeat that promised a m******e. The scent of ozone and the heavy, metallic musk of the Elite Trackers began to pour through the shattered eastern gate, a wave of cold, militaristic death.
Finn moved to the front, his silver blades held low, his body a coiled spring of lethal intent. Behind him, Elias was desperately trying to lift Isolde, his face a mask of grief and terror.
"Selina, get back!" Finn roared over his shoulder. "Gareth, fall back to the secondary line! If they breach this hall, the survivors are finished!"
But I didn't move.
The dream was still humming in my marrow. The image of the blue-flame wolf, the magnesium-moon eyes, and that unfinished sentence - The time has
