POV: Darrell Willams.
With deadly accuracy, the blade whistled past my ear, a metal haze cutting through the quiet of the night. Throwing myself into a forward roll, instinct took over and the knife's sharp edge found grip in the tree trunk inches from where my head had been.
I looked frantically around the treeline, chest heaving, for the would-be killer. But the woodland remained a spooky haven of darkness and quiet, the only sound coming through the emptiness of my own labored breathing.
Pulling the knife carefully out of the bark, I looked at the workmanship with disinterested bewilderment. This wasn't just any steel; it was a ceremonial hunting sword made of silver bolstered with wolf's bane that could stop even an alpha's quick healing.
That could only indicate that my unidentifi
