The forest turned deathly quiet.
Not because the threat had left. Because something even worse showed up.
Four powerful auras rippled across Black Hollow, invisible but impossible to miss—a storm you could feel in your bones.
Every wolf that had once bowed to Kaelira pressed even lower to the ground.
The wind barely dared to stir.
Ronan straightened, slow and tense. His hand found the sword at his hip without even thinking.
“They’re here,” he said.
Kaelira’s eyes followed his.
Four riders drifted through the haze of smoke.
Their wolves were massive—horses would have looked small beside them. Glowing eyes, dangerous and bright.
The riders dismounted one after the next.
They walked with the confidence of kings.
And every single one locked eyes on Kaelira.
The first rider stepped
