Dax POV
Kael’s driving me insane, her chirp’s sharper than silver claws, but Rune’s howling for her, and I’m done pretending I can resist.
The training grounds are a crucible under the midday sun, heat shimmering off the hard-packed dirt, dust clouds rising with every clash and grunt. The air thrums with the raw energy of sparring wolves—sharp tang of sweat, metallic bite of steel practice blades, wild musk of pine drifting from the bordering trees. It’s the heartbeat of the pack, fierce and alive, but today it barely registers. Rune’s a storm inside me, clawing at my ribs with relentless urgency— Mate! Claim her! Now! —his primal roar drowning out everything else. Her honeysuckle scent has haunted me for days, sweet and untamed, pulling me under like a riptide. I’m tired of fighting it.
