CHAPTER FIFTY
The forest quivers with the aftershocks of battle, my heart pounding in rhythm with the stampede of retreating paws. Ethan, his once-imposing frame now hunched and vulnerable, is carried between two members of his Rogue pack, disappearing into the underbrush. The sight of him wounded, the tan of his wolf fur stained dark with his own blood, sends a pang through me, but it's quickly overshadowed by the electric thrill of victory.
"Look at them run," Kyle says, breathless from exertion, his voice a mix of triumph and relief. He’s close, so close I can feel the heat of his body cutting through the chill of the night air.
I glance over at him, allowing myself a moment to drink in his presence. Five years gone and here he stands, victorious at my side, as if no time has passed
