The forest was silver.
Not green.
Not brown.
Not wild.
Just silver—every leaf, every shadow, every breath of wind caught in a strange, glimmering stillness. The moon hung low and heavy in the sky like it was watching him.
Lucian stood in the middle of it all, shirtless, barefoot, the dirt cool beneath his skin, but his body—burning.
His pulse was wild.
He could feel the beat of it echoing inside his chest, inside his veins.
His wolf stirred.
Something was coming.
He turned slowly.
The trees shifted. The leaves whispered.
Then he saw it.
A wolf.
Pure white.
Too small to be an Alpha. Lithe and sleek and impossibly fast as it stepped between shafts of silver light. Its coat shimmered like snow in the moonlight, but its eyes—its eyes were the color of wildfire.
Amber. Sharp. Kn
