When the sun dipped beneath the horizon, melting into shades of crimson and gold, a stillness fell across the forest. The world seemed to hold its breath as Draka and his pack prepared to move under the veil of sunset.
Aria sat stiffly atop the massive black stallion, her fingers clutched tight around the reins. The horse moved with silent grace, each step eerily soundless despite its sheer size. Draka walked beside her, his broad shoulders shadowed by the dimming light, flanked by over forty Lycans of all shapes and sizes. They traveled in silence, their footfalls synchronized, their formation sharp and deliberate—trained warriors with bloodied histories in their eyes.
Despite being in human form, the Lycans terrified her.
They didn’t speak to her. They didn’t look at her. It was as if
