CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sanctum trembled beneath the shadow army’s advance. Black tendrils of energy slithered along the fractured walls, whispering death and defiance in every corner. Selunara had returned—not in person, but through her creations: minions born of moonlight and shadow, each one faster, smarter, and crueler than the last.
And through it all, the bond between Lyra and me burned hotter than ever. It wasn’t just fire and shadow now—it was need, hunger, desire, a physical pulse that twisted through me like molten gold and black ice. Every glance from her, every brush of her hand, set me alight. The wolf inside me snarled, demanding more than survival—it demanded her, demanded possession.
“Kael…” she whispered, eyes wide, chest heaving, magic sparking along her arms in tiny arcs.
