Leah Carter’s Point of View
The silver wolf’s weight slammed into me, claws raking sparks from the iron poker I jammed up between us. Its growl vibrated in my bones, hot breath and acid saliva splattering the dirt. Caleb’s ragged shout tore behind me, but I barely heard it over the roar in my ears.
“Back!” I screamed, shoving with all the strength terror could summon. My arms shook, the poker burning hot in my palms.
The wolf’s eyes glowed amber, locked on Caleb. Not me. Him. My brother staggered forward, torn between fight and some terrible call he couldn’t resist.
“Caleb!” I shrieked, the word part plea, part command.
He faltered, clutching his head, golden light flickering through his eyes. The wolf lunged again. I swung, the poker smashing into its muzzle with a crack. It reeled,
