The wind howled across the ridges of Blackwood Mountain, but Daxus outran it.
His beast form—massive, sleek, and obsidian-furred—cut through the forest like a shadow of instinct and grace. Claws churned up soft earth, muscles rippled beneath his hide, and his breath steamed into the cold morning air.
For the first time in months, he wasn’t thinking.
Not of the kingdom. Not of Alec. Not of the girl sleeping in his bed with a life growing beneath her heart.
He was simply running.
Joy. Pure and untethered.
The kind he hadn’t felt since before the burden of rule stole his freedom. He leapt over fallen trees, skidded across frozen moss, barked a howl at the sky that echoed like a thunderclap through the valley.
And the wolves heard him.
First one. Then three. Then a dozen.
Shifters fro
